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THE 


No. 78 . 


I-edg^r Library. 


Spanish Treasure 

By Elizabeth C. Winter. 

(ISABELLA CASTELAR.) 

ILLUSTRATED BY WARREN B. DAVIS. 



NEW YORK: 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS. ^ 

Publishers. 



THE LEDGER LIBRARY. 


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78. -THE SPANISH TREASURE. By 

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79. -THE KING OF HONEY ISLAND. 

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paper, 50 cts. 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 



THE SPANISH TREASURE 


21 Noocl. 


BY 

MRS. ELIZABETH C. WINTER. 

M 

(ISABELLA CASTELAR.) 




/ 


• t 


NEW YORK: i < 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

PUBLISHERS. 


y 


THE LEDGER LIBRARY : ISSUED SEMI-MONTHLY. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE| TWELVE DOLLARS PER ANNUM. NO. 7S, 
FEBRUARY 1, 189S. ENTERED AT THE NEW YORK, N. Y., POST OFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER, 


"f 





COPYEIGHT, 1892 and 1893, 

By ROBERT BONNER’S SONS. 


{All rights reserved.) 



THE SPANISH TREASURE, 


CHAPTER I. 

A CHANCE MEETING. 

N a damp, unpleasant day, late in the 
month of February, two young women 
were hastening through a crowd — for 
the street was full of people, notwith- 
standing the dismal weather. The 
place was the upper part of Broadway, 
above Madison Square, and both these 
girls were, going in the same direc- 
tion, toward the north, both walking 
at the same pace, and keeping the 
same distance between them, so that an observer 
might well have fancied that one was in pursuit of the 
other. This was partly true, although neither was 
aware of it. The foremost of the girls was handsome, 
richly and elegantly attired, bright and happy ; the 
other was pale, sad, plainly dressed and, though her 
face was of the kind that might under exceptional cir- 



8 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


cumstances become beautiful, it was not now pretty 
enough to attract even a passing glance. 

Any casual passer would have described these two as 
a fashionable young woman and a poor girl. The first 
paused as she reached the corner of Thirty-fourth 
street ; the other girl also paused, a few feet distant. 
The street was crowded, as it usually is at that time of 
day, and several surface cars were passing rapidly in 
various directions. The snow of two days past made a 
deep, slushy mire, as slippery and dangerous to walk 
through as it was unpleasant to see. The young lady, 
who was not accustomed to walking, and had no sense 
of the danger of that particular crossing, suddenly 
tossed her little head and, with a slight laugh, plunged 
forward into the chaos of moving vehicles and horses. 
The movement was so unexpected that a policeman, 
who had been coming to her assistance, stood still and 
gave utterance to a few vehement remarks ; explosive 
exclamations, apparently from every point of the com- 
pass, were blown about through the air ; all sorts of 
vehicles backed hurriedly and their wheels became 
interlocked. Several horses performed impromptu 
circus-feats of standing on their hind-legs, and all the 
drivers sv/ore loudly, heartily and with much apparent 
relish. Out of this wild commotion the young lady 
presently emerged on the other side of the street, her 
arm closely held in the firm grasp of the poor girl, and 
both young women were now equally pale. 

“ I must have been crazy to attempt to cross the 
street just then,” said the former. “ I don’t know what 
possessed me to do it. You see, I am not accustomed 
to being out alone. I left my carriage somewhere here, 
to go into a store ; then I walked down a few blocks to 
another store, and James must have missed me. Of 
course, I ought to have waited till he came up ; he 


A CHANCE MEETING. 


9 


would have found me again in a minute. But for you, 
I should have been killed — horribly killed ! — crushed 
and mangled ! Oh, how frightened I was ! Yes, yes, 
you have saved my life ! And how can I thank you ? 
Surely there is something I can do for you, too — ” 

She suddenly left off talking about herself and, turn- 
ing towards the girl, who still held her arm in the same 
firm clasp, she looked at her over from head to foot with 
one swift, all-comprehensive feminine glance ; and when 
she spoke again, it was in a softened and gentle voice. 

“What can I do for you?” she said. “You have 
certainly saved my life, and you needn‘t be afraid 
to ask something worth while, for my life is precious to 
many people, and I value it very much myself.” 

The pale girl spoke for the first time, slowly and, as 
it seemed, with difficulty ; but her voice was distinct, 
though low. 

“ I don’t know that I value mine as I ought to,” she 
said, in answer to her companion’s last words ; “ indeed, 
I have been trying to think, all day, how I could get 
rid of it. Perhaps that is why I came to do as I did. 
But suppose I were to ask you now to save my life ?” 

“ Why, I would do it, of course,” was the quick reply ; 
“ yes, indeed, at the risk of my own. What ’s your 
name ?” 

“ Dolores Mendoza.” 

“ What a pretty name ! Mine is just plain Polly Ham- 
ilton. And were you really going to— But no mat- 
ter. You look heart-broken and sick and sorry. Where 
can that James be ? Ah, there he is ! You may let go 
of me now, though I do tremble even yet James, how 
stupid of you to go and lose me ! I was nearly killed 
and would have been— ah, so horribly »— but for this— 
lady.” 

“ I saw it all, miss,” said the alarmed and contrite 


10 


THE SPANISH TEEASURE. 


James, who, by this time, was holding open the carriage- 
door. “ There was such a jam I couldn’t get the 
horses through one instant sooner, miss. Hope I may 
die, miss, if my heart wasn’t in my mouth when I seed 
you in under them wheels, miss ! The sight fairly left 
my eyes, an’ when I could see again, the young lady 
had you safe over !” 

“That she had, James, and no thanks to you or any 
other of those howling, frightened, swearing men. 
Come, Dolores,” she add*ed, as she stepped quickly into 
the carriage, “ get in here alongside of me ; I’m going 
to take you home.” 

Dolores moved towards the carriage ; but, as Miss 
Hamilton instantly perceived, with pain and difficulty. 

“ Are you hurt she cried ; “ James, lift her.” 

“ Oh, no, please ; I can do better alone,” said Dolores, 
and with heroic fortitude she rested her foot a moment 
on the step and climbed into the carriage. Her pallor 
increased to ghastliness, and a cold perspiration started 
out like dew upon her brow and around her pallid lips ; 
and as she sank upon the seat, a groan of anguish 
escaped her — anguish that could no longer be repressed. 

“ You are hurt !” exclaimed Miss Hamilton, in great 
distress. 

“ A little, not much ; the wheel passed over my foot,” 
she murmured. Her head fell back. She had fainted. 

“ Drive home, James, quick as lightning, and be care- 
ful !” cried Miss Hamilton, with the manner that never 
offended her servants, though it always brought prompt 
obedience. 

She passed an arm under the neck of the insensible 
girl and gently pillowed the drooping head on her 
shoulder. 

Mary Hamilton was an only child, and from infancy 
her will had been law in the home where she reigned. 


A CHANCE MEETING. 


11 


an undisputed queen. When but a mere boy, her 
father had “ found his luck,” to borrow his own words, 
in California in ’49 ; and, having a level head and an 
honest heart, he had managed to hold on to his “ luck ” 
when others all around him had either lost or squan- 
dered theirs. He grew rich rapidly, and, on the princi- 
ple that like attracts like, his money seemed to have the 
knack of constantly doubling itself, not only in business 
enterprises but in the more personal affairs of his life. 
At the age of thirty he married the daughter of a 
millionaire, and though it was a love-match, it doubled 
his wealth ; and it was with more than ordinary glad- 
ness that he welcomed his first child. But with the 
coming of this coveted heir came the first great grief 
that had ever fallen upon the parents — the boy died 
when only three years old. Within the next five years 
a sister and then a brother were both laid to rest beside 
him on that beautiful hill that overlooks the Pacific 
Ocean in the suburbs of San Francisco. It was then, in 
the depth of their desolation, that the bereaved father 
and mother felt how useless, how worse than useless, 
and almost a cruel mockery, was the wealth they had 
rejoiced in possessing, only that they might hand it on 
to those who would follow them. 

But after some sad and lonely years — years of such 
bitter grief and disappointment as teach the heart great 
lessons — another child came to them and was not called 
away. They named her Mary, the loveliest of names, 
but its owner ruthlessly broke it up into that of “ Polly,” 
as soon as she could speak ; and, so strong is the force 
of association, to the two who loved her as the dearest 
thing on earth, “ Polly ” soon became the most charm- 
ing name in the world, since it represented all that was 
prettiest, most fascinating and endearing, most roguish, 
playful and delightful to them. 


12 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


In truth Polly Hamilton was a sweet and lovable girl. 
Though spoiled from her cradle she was not selfish, 
except in a superficial way, and not vainer than other 
girls whose mirrors compliment them even more than 
their friends. She was simple, warm-hearted and affec- 
tionate, loyal to all who loved her, and not bitterly 
unforgiving to her enemies — if she had any. 

As the carriage was whirled onward Mary Hamilton 
spent the few minutes of the drive homeward in looking 
at the insensible face resting against her shoulder, and 
in trying to guess at its owner’s history. 

“ Dolores Mendoza !” she thought. “ A Spanish 
name and a good one. There was a Mendoza down in 
Yuma County, and he claimed to belong to the old 
Castilian aristocracy. Papa will know. I wonder if 
this girl is any kin to that stock. She has a striking 
face, now that I look at her closely. And what hair, 
with her olive complexion ! What could she mean by 
trying to get rid of her life? So young — she can’t be 
more than twenty. Poor girl ! And she /s poor, too, 
for everything about her shows it. How slender and 
delicate she looks ! Ah ! I’m afraid she hasn’t even 
had enough to eat,” and taking one of the ungloved 
hands that were lying so helplessly still, in all the uncon- 
scious pathos of insensibility, she raised it tenderly, and 
looked with a searching, critical gaze at the delicate 
attenuated fingers. 

Though brought up in luxury, Mary Hamilton had 
seen enough of life in the land of quick gains and 
quicker losses to recognize the signs of poverty that 
had overtaken those born to better fortune. Her own 
warm hand closed over the thin, worn fingers ; and she 
thought, gratefully, how easy it would be to change a 
part of the hard fate which had been laid on this 
unknown girl. 


DOLORES. 


13 


At that moment the carriage stopped in front of a 
handsome house in one of the new and fashionable 
uptown streets, and in the briefest possible time, 
James, assisted by one of the indoor servants, was 
carrying the still unconscious girl through the wide hall 
and up to the room of their young mistress. 


CHAPTER II. 

DOLORES. 

“ No,” said Doctor Macdonald, in answer to Miss 
Hamilton’s eager inquiries, “ she is not severely hurt. 
No bones broken, no tendons twisted. A simple bruise 
and not very serious, fortunately. She didn’t faint from 
pain — at least the pain alone would not have caused 
the swoon. Compulsory fasting, poor girl ! It has 
been Lent for her, all the year round. I’m afraid, even 
at the best of times and for the past forty-eight hours 
she has had nothing more nourishing than Croton 
water.” 

“ Oh, Doctor Macdonald ! And New York is called 
a charitable city.” 

“ So it is. Miss Polly ; so it is ! Don’t you run away 
with any notions to the contrary. That young woman 
wasn’t looking for charity, she’s not that kind ; and 
don’t make any mistake if you think of being good to 
her— as you do, of course, for you can’t help being good 
to everybody. To me, as her physician only, she has 
confided the fact of having had nothing to eat since the 
day before yesterday. That, together with the pain of 


14 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


her foot, but, more than all else, the sudden reaction of 
an over- wrought, highly sensitive nervous system, has 
been the cause of the swoon which has so alarmed you.” 

“ Then she won’t be lame ?” 

“ Not in the least. All she needs is care and nourish- 
ment, and within a week or two she will be in her 
normal condition as to physical health — at least, as 
nearly so as is possible under the circumstances. But I 
must tell you that she seems to be suffering from severe 
mental depression, probably the result of recent grief. 
On that subject she will be more confidential with one 
of her own sex than she could ever be with a crusty old 
bachelor like myself. You and she are about of an age, 
and I dare wager that before a week is over you will 
both have exchanged confidences to the last word — if 
there is such a thing among young women.” 

“ Doctor Macdonald !” exclaimed Mary, in mock 
indignation. “ But there ! You know you are a privi- 
leged person, and you know, too, that you think young 
women — all of them — the most charming creatures in 
the wide world.” 

“Certainly, my dear,” was the laughing reply. “I 
owe a debt of gratitude to the female portion of the 
human race. What would my practice be but for the 
lovely women of this great city ? Their wrong-headed- 
ness and strong-headedness, their weak-mindedness and 
meek-mindedness, but, above all, their strong-minded- 
ness ! Ah, my dear, I adore the whole lot of them ! 
They multiply my yearly income by ten — ” 

“ I’ll hear no more !” interrupted his impatient 
listener. “ You are incorrigible ! But I forgive all 
your calumnies against my sex, since you tell me that 
this dear girl will suffer no permanent injury from the 
accident I was the means of causing. And now may I 
go to stay with her a while ?” 


DOLORES. 


15 


“ Yes, if you won’t talk too much. She is quite weak. 
If she is inclined to talk to you, let her do so in moder- 
ation. It will ease her mind. But let her rest and 
sleep as much as she will. Good-bye. I will see her 
again to morrow.” 

“ Good-bye. You are so good ! I will try to remem- 
ber all your advice, doctor, and, better still, I will act 
upon it.” 

As she turned away to go upstairs, Miss Hamilton 
found herself thinking more deeply than was customary, 
with her gay and happy young mind. 

“ Something about Dolores affects me powerfully,” 
she mused. “ She makes me feel as if I wanted to be 
very good. I wonder what it is. Perhaps it is what 
they call ‘ magnetism,' ‘ atmosphere ’ and that sort of 
thing. I don’t understand it a bit, but I’m sure it is 
good, for she not only attracts me but makes me wish 
to be noble and great.” 

As she reached the door of the room which had been 
given to the young stranger, Mary paused in moment- 
ary hesitation before entering. There was not the 
faintest sound from within ; therefore, she noiselessly 
opened the door without knocking, to find her mother 
seated near the bed on which the new occupant lay fast 
asleep. 

Mrs. Hamilton was regarding the sleeper with looks 
of the most lively gratitude as well as admiration, and 
she turned toward her daughter with a gesture impos- 
ing silence Mary drew forward a low chair and sat 
down close to her mother. 

Dolores, who was now under the influence of a mild 
sedative as well as wholesome and stimulating nourish- 
ment, presented a very different appearance from that 
she had presented a few hours before. Her face was 
now faintly flushed with warmth and sleep, and her 


16 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


magnificent auburn hair, half unbound and lying on the 
lace-trimmed pillow, formed a fitting background for 
the delicate features and perfect though sharpened out- 
line of the cheek and chin. 

“ Isn’t she pretty ?” whispered Mary. 

“ Beautiful, rather, I call her,” answered Mrs. Hamil- 
ton, in the same hushed tone. 

“ Yes, mamma ; you are right,” assented Mary. “ Her 
face is much too fine for mere prettiness. And what 
lovely hands ! You can see that she’s a lady, mamma ; 
and I do so want a sister — I have always longed for a 
sister, mamma.” 

“ I know it, dear,” answered Mrs. Hamilton, stifling 
a faint pang of jealousy. 

Poor woman ! She had tried so hard to be both 
mother and sister, with sometimes a momentary bitter- 
ness at finding the effort a failure. But, “ as perfect 
love casteth out fear,” so, also, it casts out jealousy. 
She caught the sweet face raised toward her, half wist- 
fully, half entreatingly, between her own soft hands 
and kissed the rosy mouth with the passionate fervor of 
unselfish devotion. 

“ That means ‘ yes,’ ” exclaimed Mary. “ O you dear 
mamma !” 

“ Hush, dearest ! You must first learn what Dolores 
may have to say about it,” Mrs. Hamilton said, with an 
indulgent smile ; for it was as easy to promise this 
“sister” to her daughter as it had been in her bab}^- 
hood to promise a new doll. And though this gift 
might present other difficulties, there was time enough 
to inquire about that. So when Dolores at length 
awaked, after a refleshing sleep, Mary quickly stooped 
over her, and kissing her with enthusiasm, exclaimed : 

“ You are never going to leave us, Dolores ! You 


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DOLORES. 


17 


are going to stay with us always ! You are to be my 
sister !” 

A warm flush of joy overspread the young stranger’s 
face, and her eyes became dewy and soft with grateful 
emotion ; and Mary Hamilton was quick to see that it 
was not the prospect of ease and luxury that caused 
that flush, but the far greater joy of having found 
affection and appreciation in a world that had so long 
been a cold and barren wilderness. 

“You don’t know me,” she said tremulously, but 
with the happy consciousness that even such a serious 
drawback was going to be disposed of. “ I may be — 
you don’t know what I may be.” 

“ Just so !” said Mary, gayly. “ That only helps to 
make it all more interesting. Whatever you may be, 
it is sure to be something fine. Oh, you ma}^ trust me ! 
I’m better than a gypsy for reading faces — women’s 
faces, I mean. I don’t understand men a bit. But I 
forget : I’m not to talk to you. Doctor Mac said I 
was not ; but, you see, I am an awful chatterbox. 
Now, just one word more, dear : Tell me : Is there 
any reason why we two — you and I — may not be law- 
fully joined together, as they say in the marriage ser- 
vice, as sisters^ for better, for worse, in sickness and in 
health, through good or evil report, so long as we both 
shall live ?” 

“ No,” answered Dolores, with a smile that merged 
into a deep sigh, “ no reason at all, so far as I know, 
for I am alone in the world, without relative or friend 
or guardian, quite alone, without a soul to love or even 
hate me — till I met you this morning.” 

“ How delightful !” exclaimed Mary Hamilton. “ I 
mean, you dear thing, how sad and dreadful for you, 
but how delightful for me — because I can have you all 
to myself. And now, just one word more, Dolores, 


18 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


have you no other name ? Something for every-day 
use, you know. I wouldn’t have your name changed 
for anything, it is so characteristic — a real Spanish 
name. But it means ‘ sorrow— sadness it would make 
me cry if I had to call you Dolores all the time.” 

“ My mother called me Lola,” said Dolores softly, 
and her companion noted the quick catch in her breath, 
and instantly remembered that the Spanish girl’s worn 
dress and hat had shown all the humble signs of mourn- 
ing their owner had been able to bestow on them. She 
guessed rightly that Dolores had but recently lost the 
mother whom she could not yet name without emotion. 

“ Lola, and sometimes Lolita,” the girl continued, 
“ for these are the pretty diminutives of my name in 
the Spanish language. But my mother was not Span- 
ish. She came from the Scotch Highlands, and I have 
often heard her say she loved the canyons and mount- 
ains of California for that reason. My father was of 
Spanish ancestry, and it was to please him that I was 
called Dolores. It is a family name, and there is 
a legend that tells how a far-off ancestor of my father 
accompanied Columbus when he discovered this new 
world. But he was not an ancestor to be proud of.” 

” How splendid !” exclaimed the delighted listener. 
“It is like a story, only so much nicer when one knows 
the characters or their descendants. But I won’t call 
you Lola or I^olita — I wouldn’t let any one call me by 
the dear little pet names sacred to my own mother. 
Any one I care for enough may call me Mary or Polly 
or Molly ; but no one may use mamma’s pet names ; 
and so it shall be with you, too. I will choose some- 
thing for my very own ; what do you say to Lora or 
Lorita or Rita ? They are all pretty, and I shall call 
you Lorita. And you shall have a name for me, too ; 
choose one for yourself.” 


A FLOWER OF THE HEATHER. 


19 


Why not ‘ Maruja ?’ You see I am fond of Spanish 
names, and ‘ Maruja ’ is our prettiest for ‘ Mary.’ ” 

‘‘ Agreed !” cried Polly, clapping her hands like a 
child. “ And now we must be good. If Doctor Mac 
finds you feverish when he comes to-morrow, I shall be 
greatly blamed ; and hp will think me incapable of hav- 
ing charge of his patient.” 

Dolores smiled happily, and as the sedative admin- 
istered by Doctor Macdonald still held possession, her 
eyelids presently drooped and she was soon in a deep 
sleep. 

Within the next ten days these two young girls who 
had met so strangely had become devoted friends ; and 
the Spanish girl’s history, so far as she knew it herself, 
had been freely and frankly discussed. 


CHAPTER III. 

A FLOWER OF THE HEATHER. 

The mother of Dolores had been the only child of an 
improvident Scotchman of good family, who had ruined 
his estate, broken his wife's heart and alienated every 
relation and friend belonging to him, and finally capped 
the climax of his follies by leaving his native land to 
seek a fortune in the gold-fields of California. To aid 
him in that wild quest, he had taken with him his 
golden-haired little daughter, Alice— a being so exquis- 
ite in her beauty and innocence that even in the wild 
uproar of the San Francisco of ’50, the motley crowd 
among whom her father brought her, believed her a 


20 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


veritable ang’el dropped down from a weeping heaven 
to shed a last ray of light into the darkness. 

In the midst of scenes too shocking for her to under- 
stand, Alice Lyndsay grew to womanhood, as pure as 
the calla lilies that now grow in those streets, rear- 
ing their snowy cups high above the black earth 
from which they spring. Her father, who was a born 
bohemian, easy-going, clever, bright, master of half a 
dozen languages, and possessed of a voice that might 
have charmed a sitting mavis off its nest, was soon 
hail-fellow-well-met with the wildest class of San Fran- 
ciscans, and long before Alice had reached womanhood, 
he had made and lost half a dozen fortunes. One night, 
he was shot in a row at a faro table, and at the age of 
eighteen, Alice found herself an orphan, homeless and 
penniless. But her father’s death was not the worst 
misfortune that happened to her. She had been seen 
and loved by a young Spaniard, who had lacked cour- 
age to press his suit, but who blessed the opportunity 
her loneliness and grief now gave him. Alice married 
Rafael Mendoza, and, though from that hour all 
worldly prosperity forsook him, his happiness in her 
love was so great that he never quite realized the mis- 
fortunes that pursued him. 

At the time of his marriage, Mendoza had been one 
of the rising men of the San Francisco of that day — a 
city that might then have been called the Phoenix of 
the Pacific coast, for it had risen from the ashes of four 
San Franciscos that had gone before, a richer, fairer, 
prouder city than any that had preceded it, and destined 
to be the foundation of the now beautiful city of the 
Golden Gate. He was also rich in flocks and herds on 
distant ranches ; rich in gold and bonds ; rich in fabu- 
lous wealth of treasure and of gems said to be buried 
in some far canyon of which he alone held the secret, 


A FLOWER OF THE HEATHER. 


21 


and richest of all in the possession of the one woman he 
had ever loved. But from the day of his marriage a 
curse pursued him. His flocks and herds died ; his 
gold melted away ; his bonds became waste-paper ; and 
finally his mind failed, and he sank into helpless imbe- 
cility. From this last misfortune he only roused occa- 
sionally for a few lucid moments, when he would 
frantically kiss his young wufe and child, and murmur, 
helplessly : The curse of the Mendozas — the curse of 

the wronged and murdered Indian girl ! Why has it 
come to me ? How have I deserved it 

The beautiful Senora Mendoza soon buried her hus- 
band in the lonely canyon of Santiago, where, in his 
last days he had entreated to be taken, in the forlorn 
hope of finding the hidden treasure whose secret he had 
once known. But it was too late : his shattered brain 
could no longer think, and his hand had lost its cun- 
ning. His grave was dug not twenty feet from the 
buried treasure ; and Alice, with her child, wandered 
far away, beggars in everything save their love for each 
other. The Senora Mendoza, who spoke English beauti- 
fully, thanks to her bohemian father, obtained the posi- 
tion of governess to a Spanish family who were on the 
way to the Eastern States ; and after a hundred vicissi- 
tudes and a complete breakdown in the health of the 
still beautiful sefiora, these two lovely women drifted 
into New York — harbor for every kind of human wreck. 
Dolores, whose elegant figure had obtained her the posi- 
tion of saleswoman in a cloak-room, had been able at 
first to pay their way ; but when her mother’s health 
declined so rapidly that her condition became desperate, 
she was obliged to resign her position in order to give 
her the necessary care. From that time the gaunt 
specter of povert}" pursued them, and its terrible eyes 
met the eye of Dolores wherever she looked ; but she 


22 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


fought it off day and night till her mother kissed and 
blessed her for the last time. To buy the right for that 
dear, dead form to lie in hallowed ground the poor girl 
had gathered together every shilling she yet owned ; 
and that being insufficient, she had then sold every 
article she possessed of furniture and of clothing — and 
on the day when she first saw Polly Hamilton she had 
been walking to and fro on the earth, face to face with 
death by starvation — praying only that it might not be 
long to wait. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE SILVER LINING. 

As soon as Dolores was well enough to come down- 
stairs, she declared her immediate intention of return- 
ing to her humble apartment, where she had left the 
few trifles that belonged to her. 

Mary instantly volunteered to accompany her. 

“ I could not let you out of my sight, dear,” she said, 
jestingly ; “ you might not return. And what in the 
world do you suppose the woman of the house thinks 
of your absence ?” 

“ That I have run away to cheat her out of the few 
shillings I owe her for rent,” said Dolores, with moment- 
ary bitterness. “ The poor, even more than the absent, 
are always in the wrong— but I am ungrateful to say 
such things when I have found such dear, generous 
friends. Truly, the cloud had a silver lining of the 
brightest hue, though I was long in finding it.” 

With guick, impulsive affection she embraced Mary 


THE SILVER LINING. 


23 


and Mrs. Hamilton, who was becoming as fond of this 
new daughter as even her own child could have wished. 

“ It is like a dream of heaven,” continued Dolores, 
“ when I remember the hopeless misery of that day of 
our first meeting. I didn’t know then why I followed 
you, Maruja ; it seemed an impulse to look for a 
moment on a face, no older than my own, on which 
seemed the light of perpetual sunshine, while on mine 
seemed the constant shadow of darkness. But I have 
since thought it may have been the whisper of some 
good angel that drew me after you. Yes, yes, life would 
now be heaven here, and with you, if — if only my mother 
could be with me.” 

The large, soft eyes filled with tears, and though she 
grieved to see them, Mrs. Hamilton could not wish 
Dolores to be less conscious of the loss she had so late- 
ly known. 

“ I can never fill her place, dear,” she said, “ but try 
to feel that I love you as I would wish to have her love 
my little Polly.” 

“Come, Lorita ; here is the carriage.” And Mary 
led the way, with her customary airy, light-hearted 
manner that covered a depth of feeling she was not 
willing to display at all times. 

“ If she supposes that you have run away,” continued 
Miss Hamilton, as the two girls were driving down- 
town toward the wretched place that had been for 
more than a year the home of Dolores and her mother, 

“ perhaps your landlady has taken possession of your 
things to pay the debt you owe her.” 

Dolores laughed outright, with something more like 
merriment than Mary had yet heard from her. 

“ All I own in the world, Maruja, would not bring a 
dollar if sold to the highest bidder, with the single 
exception of my mother’s picture. I can but hope that 


24 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


Mrs. Brown has not burned the lot as rubbish : a few 
letters and a manuscript containing the legend of the 
Mendoza family and other trifles valuable only as keep- 
sakes ; for if they could have been exchanged for 
money, they, too, would have gone long ago. The 
manuscript is a curiosity ; mamma found it among my 
poor father’s papers after his death. It might interest 
you, dear, because you care for me ; it could not inter- 
est any one else, except for antiquarian reasons.” 

“ I hope the woman has not destroyed it !” exclaimed 
Mary. “ What a girl you are ! The heroine of I don’t 
know how many romances, or, if not the actual heroine, 
something even better — the heir to whole centuries of 
romance. Some great artist shall paint you as an 
allegorical figure representing the genius of the New 
World. It would be suitable for the Columbian Expo- 
sition to celebrate the great anniversary.” 

“ What a fanciful idea ! But don’t be uneasy about 
the manuscript. I don’t think Mrs. Brown would burn 
it.” 

“ No,” said Mary, “ for women attach a sort of super- 
stitious value to anything like documents." 

Dolores only smiled in answer, and Mary saw that 
her face had taken on a strange, rapt expression, 
while her eyes deepened and glowed as if they saw 
into some far away, unknown realm, beyond the reach 
of other eyes. It was a look that Mary had seen once 
or twice before on the face of her new friend ; and 
though it had startled her, she understood already that 
while it continued it was useless to speak to Dolores. 

The carriage had proceeded rapidly, and they had 
now reached a part of the town known only by descrip- 
tion to the child of luxury, who, although her hand was 
at all times open to the cause of charity, dispensed her 
bounty by means of various kindly messengers. The 


THE SILVER LINING. 


25 


squalid children that thronged the streets and lanes, 
the dirty and reeling men and women collected in 
groups on the sidewalks and on the street-corners, 
would now have been alarming but for the presence on 
the carriage-box of the faithful James, who, with many 
misgivings and strange questionings in his perplexed 
mind, drove with exceeding care through this vile 
neighborhood. At last the carriage stopped in front of 
a tenement a few degrees less squalid than its general 
surroundings, and at the same moment Dolores started, 
or as her companion would have said, “ came back to 
earth again.” 

“ This is the place,” she said, preparing to descend 
from the carriage as James opened the door. 

Miss Hamilton rose to accompany her, but Dolores 
said : 

“ No, Maruja ; I cannot let you come into this place. 
Your mother would not wish it.” And the words were 
spoken with emphasis that left no room for argument. 

From the first Dolores had possessed a certain com- 
mand over Mary Hamilton, who, although naturally 
self-willed and not lacking in strength of character, 
always submitted to the influence of this strange girl. 
She was aware of this, and did not resent it ; and she 
was still thinking about it when Dolores returned to the 
carriage. The brief visit to her old abode had been 
painful, and she was pale and trembling, but she had 
evidently been successful, for she carried in her hand a 
little box of some old-fashioned Japanese workmanship, 
in which were contained all her worldly possessions, 

“Yes,” she said, in answer to Mary’s questioning- 
gaze, “ I have everything safe. Let me show you the 
picture of mamma — it is so beautiful ! Papa had it 
painted soon after their marriage. As you may see, the 
frame was once set with jewels, but they melted away, 


26 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


one by one, leaving only the lovely face — to me, the 
choicest gem of all.” 

She pressed the frame of the old-fashioned case, and, 
as the lid flew back, Mary could not repress a cry of 
almost startled admiration at the beauty of the exquisite 
face that was revealed to her. The likeness was a 
miniature on ivory, painted by the hand of genius. 
“ The lily’s snow and the blood of the rose ” had met to 
form that equisite complexion ; the mouth, soft as 
velvet and crimson as a cherry, seemed really to 
unclose, so lifelike were the smiling lips ; the eyes were 
like dewy violets, and were shaded by dark lashes that 
curled upward like a baby’s, and eyebrows almost as 
dark lay in perfect curves upon a forehead white and 
clear as the silvery brightness of the new moon. The 
final touch of color lay in the hair, shining like a shower 
of gold as it fell in unbound, girlish carelessness about 
the neck and shoulders. 

“ Oh, what a beauty !” exclaimed Mary, almost breath- 
less with admiration. “ I never saw such a lovely face ! 
I see where you get the ruddy, golden lights in your 
hair, Lorita, but — ” 

“ I am not to be named in the same day with her,’» 
said Dolores, filling out the sentence that Mary left 
incomplete. I know it, dear. There was no one — no 
one — so beautiful as my mother.” 

And the listener easily understood that love for her 
mother had been the one sole passion of this girl’s life. 
She knew already how sad, what a mockery of destiny, 
had been the end of that beautiful woman ; and she 
longed to change the thoughts that were pressing so pain- 
fully on the mind and heart of her lonely child, but she 
knew not in what words to begin, without seeming hard 
and unsympathetic. Dolores understood, and responded 
to the unspoken thought. Pressing her lips to the lovely, 


THE SILVER LINING. 


27 


smiling lips of the picture, she closed the frame and 
returned the miniature to its place. 

“ Some day we will read the manuscript together, 
Maruja, though by this time, perhaps, you can guess at 
the most of it, since I have told you so much of myself 
and my ancestry. But it will be sweet to talk it all 
over with you as I used to do with mamma. What 
thrilling tales and wild romances we have built up on 
that legend ! Many and many a time it has served us 
for dinner and supper, and often in the magnificent 
feasts of our heroes and heroines have we fed ourselves 
and forgotten that we were hungry.” 

****** 

As the carriage now turned into the avenue, on their 
rapid drive homeward, Mary suddenly leaned forward 
and waved her hand, in answer to a bow from a gentle- 
man whom they had passed on their way. 

“ Did you see him ?” she asked, with scarce -repressed 
excitement, and turned her sparkling face to Dolores. 

“ I saw a gentleman — yes. He bowed to you, but I 
did not notice him particularly.” 

“ It w^as Clarence Stanley — the Hon. Clarence Stanley 
in his own country, you know. Oh, Maruja, I — I like 
him, I think. I wish you had noticed him — particularly. 
But no matter. You will have a better opportunity 
soon, for he will be sure to call on us to-day. I suppose 
he has only just come to town, for he has been in Chi- 
cago for some time. Lorita, dearest, were you ever in 
love ?” 

“ Never !” returned Dolores, with the promptness of 
absolute conviction. 

Mary sighed impatiently. 

“ I supposed you would say that,” she said. “ And, 
indeed, how could you, for you never had time ; and, 
oh, my dear little Lorita, it does take such an awful lot 


28 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


of time ! But I can’t help wishing you had been, be- 
cause — perhaps — you could enlighten me a little. I’m 
afraid — sometimes I’m awfully afraid that I am in love, 
Rita, and if I am and he is not, whatever shall I do, my 
dear ?” 

Dolores smiled, as mothers and elder sisters smile 
over spoiled children ; the trouble that was agitating 
Polly Hamilton seemed then so trivial to her. 

“ Don’t be distubed about it, Maruja,” she said plac- 
idly. “ If you are in love, you will certainly find it out 
in good time ; and I don’t think any properly disposed 
young gentleman can fail to respond to such a compli- 
ment in the right way.” 

“ What a comfort you are, dear !” exclaimed Polly. 
“Now, I had never thought of that till you suggested 
it ! Of course, nothing could be simpler.” 


CHAPTER V. 

THE HON. CLARENCE STANLEY. 

It was in her native city that Mary Hamilton first 
met the Hon. Clarence Stanley ; and, although, as he 
had told her, he was an Englishman by birth and edu- 
cation, she soon perceived that he was also, as he 
claimed to be, an old Californian. He had come to the 
country when a boy, having quarreled with his father 
on the subject of his vocation. The Earl of Winder- 
mere had wished him to study for the church— that 
time-honored step-mother of younger sons— and on his 
refusal to do so, words of anger more bitter than had 
ever before passed between father and son, were spoken 


THE HON. CLARENCE STANLEY. 


29 


— words which Clarence declared he could neither forget 
nor forgive. By right of inheritance he had not even 
a younger son’s portion, for his father, who had never 
liked him, now hated him bitterly ; but on the death of 
his mother, he had inherited the small fortune which 
she had possessed in her own right ; and, with the whole 
amount in his portmanteau, he shook off, as he hoped, 
forever, the dust of his native land. One consideration 
only could induce him to return to England — and that 
was a contingency so remote as to be scarcely worth 
taking into account.- In the event of his brother’s death 
without an heir, he was the immediate successor to the 
estates and Earldom of Windermere. But, as Lord 
Appleby was in the prime of life and had been 
already engaged to marry when Clarence had left Eng- 
land ten years before, the succession was probably long 
since provided for ; and for himself, he added, with a 
touch of pardonable pride, he was wholly independent 
of his father or brother, either ; the small fortune 
inherited from his mother had already been doubled 
and trebled so many times that he could buy and sell 
and buy again the Windermere estates if they should 
ever come into the market. Not that he had any wish 
to become their possessor, by any means ; for always 
in referring to his English home, Stanley spoke of it 
with repugnance as well as bitterness, declaring his 
wish never to see it again even if fate should make him 
its future owner. 

This story, simple enough in itself, and, like many 
others he had heard, became especially interesting to 
Mr. Hamilton when he saw the acquaintance between 
his daughter and the young Englishman ripening into 
an intimacy that had already given rise to a rumored 
engagement between the two ; and he was particularly 
glad to find, on investigation, that young Stanley’s 


30 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


account of himself seemed to bear the stamp of truth in 
every particular. In regard to her future, Mary’s father 
had but one ambition — that she should love the man 
she married, and that she should marry the right man. 
Through his many friends and correspondents abroad 
he had been able not only to substantiate Stanley’s own 
story of his family but to add to it some facts as yet 
unknown to Clarence, who had held no communication 
with his father or brother since leaving England. The 
earl was still living, though advanced in years, but so 
hale and hearty that he might stand many years between 
Lord Appleby and the coronet, and as bitterly opposed 
as ever to his younger son. Lord Appleby was 
said to be in poor health, but his son, an only child, 
was a robust and splendid boy ; and if the old earl 
should outlive his own son, there would be a grandson 
to succeed him. 

Mrs. Hamilton gave one little sigh when she first 
heard all this from her husband. It would have been 
very nice to see her daughter a countess if, in the course 
of human events, such a thing should come to pass, but 
it was a subject she was not going to allow herself to 
dwell upon ; and when she heard of the little boy-heir, 
she was far too gentle and too much a mother even to 
think again of future possibilities. 

As for Mary Hamilton — she cared for none of these 
things. She had never yet allowed herself to think 
very seriously of Stanley. They had drifted into the 
easy, half-fraternal intimacy of their age. They called 
each other Polly and Clarence : she thought him “ very 
nice,” and as she had said to Dolores, she “ liked ” him, 
and had even wondered sometimes what his state of 
feeling might be in regard to herself. 

The acquaintance had progressed just so far when 
Mr. Hamilton suddenly announced to his family, that 


THE HON. CLARENCE STANLEY. 


81 


business would make it necessary for him to spend a 
year or two in New York ; and when they had been 
three weeks in their new home, Clarence Stanley one 
day called on them. He explained that he had business 
in Chicago, and by an original method of travelling, 
had chosen to get there by way of New York — just 
exactly how did not appear ; but he supposed this 
roundabout route must be due to his English ideas of 
the country. Mr. Hamilton was disposed to jeer at 
him as a traveller, but Miss Polly declared she could 
see nothing to laugh at, particularly as the Chicago 
business did not seem to be very pressing ; and when, 
at length, the Honorable Clarence went there, he found 
that he could attend to his affairs much better by 
making New York his headquarters. 

This last item of information he had just imparted 
to his admiring listeners, Mrs. Hamilton and her 
daughter — for Mary had been correct in her surmise 
that he would call on her before the day was over. 

Looking at Clarence Stanley at that moment, it was 
natural enough that Polly Hamilton, or any other young 
girl, without experience or the unusual perception that 
may serve in place of it, should “ like ” him and more 
than like him. He had the positive and unmistakable 
physical beauty that appeals at once to the feminine 
eye. He was tall and graceful, even elegant, in figure ; 
he dressed perfectly ; he was blonde, with hazel eyes — 
wonderful eyes in their changing variety of color and 
in a strange, steely glitter that sometimes shot into 
them, for the moment changing the whole expression of 
the face. His mouth was firm, almost cruel ; and, 
though it was shaded by a long, silken mustache, he 
had a trick of passing his fine white hand over it occa- 
sionally, as if still further to conceal it. Young women 
said this was merely to display his handsome hand ; but 


32 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


perhaps it was a tell-tale mouth, for he could not always 
command the expression of it. It would have been an 
interesting face to a student of physiognomy, there 
were in it such possibilities for good or evil. 

To Mary Hamilton it was rapidly becoming the most 
interesting and attractive face in the world, and she was 
just becoming aware of it, though she did not guess 
how fully her feelings were betrayed by her eager eyes 
and faintly flushed face. 

“And this wonderful new sister that you have found, 
Polly,” he said, for Mrs. Hamilton had been telling him 
all that had chanced in his absence — “ am I not to see 
her ?” 

“ Yes,” Mrs. Hamilton answered, rising to leave the 
room. “ I am going to send her to you, Polly, dear ; 
and don’t forget that the opera begins at eight You 
will accompany us, Clarence ? Californians never miss 
the opera, you know !” 

“Certainly — if you will have me.” And turning to 
Mary, when they were alone, he said : 

“ And what is her name — the new sister ?” 

“ Oh, the loveliest name, like herself, and just suits 
her — Dolores Mendoza.” 

“ Dolores Mendoza !” exclaimed Stanley, in a tone of 
uncontrollable amazement. His eyes suddenly glowed 
and flamed until Mary could have fancied that some 
strange, bright light leaped from them. That look 
passed, but a steely glitter remained that caused her an 
involuntary shudder. 

“ Yes,” she answered, making no effort to conceal her 
surprise. “ Do you know her ?” 

“ Not at all ; but the name is an unusual one, 
and I happen to have heard it before. It is in some 
manner connected with my family, but I don’t know 
how.” 


THE HON. CLARENCE STANLEY. 


33 


“ How very strange ! But everything about my dar- 
ling Lorita is strange. She has such a history ! I may 
tell it to you some time, perhaps. Ah, here she is !” 
And hastening toward Dolores, who now appeared at 
the farther end of the long drawing-room, Mary put her 
arm about the slender figure, looking now so very 
slight and tall in her clinging, black draperies, and 
drew her forward till they stood before Clarence, who 
had advanced to meet them. 

While she pronounced the few words that made them 
known to each other, Stanley bowed deeply, never 
removing his gaze from the pale, high-bred, sensitive 
face ; but as Dolores acknowledged the introduction 
with a rather formal expression of pleasure, Mary felt 
her supple form becoming rigid ; a long, gasping sigh 
burst from her lips, and her head fell backward. 

“ She has fainted !” exclaimed Mary, in the greatest 
alarm. “ Oh, Clarence, help me ! How terrible she 
looks ! Her eyes are wide open, yet she doesn’t 
breathe !” 

“ Call some one. Don’t be alarmed ! She has been 
ill, you know. A little water, perhaps, or ammonia. 
I must own I am not of much use, Polly, for I never 
before saw a young lady in a faint.” 

He was extremely self-possessed, however, to Mary’s 
great admiration ; and when they had placed the 
insensible girl on a lounge, she hastened away for 
the assistance and restoratives he had suggested. 
Stanley waited till she had left the room, and then, 
feeling that he was safe from observation, he stooped 
over Dolores and pushed aside the rich, waving hair 
from her brow. There, on the left temple, was a small 
heart-shaped mole, in color as red as a ruby and in 
shape as perfect as if traced by the pencil of an artist. 

“ I thought so !” exclaimed Clarence Stanley. 


u 


THE SPANISH TREASURE, 


He turned to a mirror over the mantel-piece and 
raised his own blonde hair from his temple, on which 
Nature had painted the same heart-shaped mole, but 
its color was black as if cut from ebony. 

“ We two are the last of the Mendozas,” he muttered 
under his breath ; and his cruel mouth quivered 
strangely, fiercely, “ and the sole heirs to that fabulous 
wealth that lies buried in the Santiago Cafion ! But 
who shall discover the secret of its hiding-place ?” 

As he turned from the mirror and, bending over 
Dolores, smoothed the hair about her brow, both Mary 
and her mother hastily entered, followed by a ser- 
vant, bearing in the way of restoratives everything 
her young mistress had been able to find. 

Mary fiung herself down beside the lounge on which 
Dolores lay still insensible as when she had left her, 
rigid, deathly pale and with eyes wide open, fixed and 
staring. 

“ Oh, this is horrible !” she cried wildly. “ It is not like 
a swoon, mamma ! What does it mean ? It was the 
sight of you,” turning suddenly to Stanley — “ it was 
the sight of you that did it ! Clarence ! Clarence ! 
You have killed her !” 


CHAPTER VI. 

AT THE OPERA. 

At these words, Clarence Stanley turned a startled, 
inquiring look on the speaker, while Mrs. Hamilton 
said, with a touch of impatience : 

“ Mary, you are excited and unreasonable. What 
can Clarence have to do with this fainting-fit ? It is 


AT THE OPERA. 


35 


sudden and inexplicable, but it is not the first time 
that Dolores has been so affected, even in our brief 
acquaintance with her ; and it is more than probable 
that she is subject to faintingf-fits.” 

“ Mamma, dear, no. It is not at all probable,” 
returned Mary, decisively. You forget that Doctor 
Mac said that she was not at all of the fainting kind 
and that her swoon on the day she saved my life was 
caused by pain and fasting. Besides, this is not like a 
fainting-fit, and that is what alarms me. I didn’t 
mean that Clarence was to blame in any way. Of 
course not. How could he be ? But is it not curious 
that Dolores should have become insensible on meeting 
his eyes !” 

“ Did she become insensible on meeting his eyes ?” 
asked Mrs. Hamilton, wonderingly. 

“ Yes, almost instantly. It was like — like mesmerism 
or hypnotism, or whatever it is called ; something the 
like of which I never saw and could not have believed 
now, had I not actually seen it.” 

“ Don’t talk absurdly, dear !” exclaimed Mrs. Hamil- 
ton. “ Hypnotism and all that sort of thing, which are 
being so talked of in these days, are a mere fad, and 
will wear themselves out like all these other ‘ isms.' 
Don’t you think so, Clarence .?” 

The young man shrugged his shoulders ; and then, 
looking with renewed interest at the still insensible 
Dolores, he answered, with sudden seriousness : 

“ I hardly know how to reply to your question, dear 
Mrs. Hamilton. It would seem very unbecoming in an 
inexperienced fellow like myself, to declare against men 
of science like Charcot, Richet, Gibier, and a host of 
others who have thought the subject worth investigat- 
ing ; but I will venture to say that nine-tenths of the so- 
called wonders of hypnotism are fraud and nonsense. 


36 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


Perhaps I ought to add that I have more than once 
been told by professors of the art or science, whichever 
it may be, that I possess in an unusual degree the 
special magnetism that is required for the exercise of 
this peculiar power.” 

Oh, Clarence,” exclaimed Mary, in a tone of vague 
reproach, “then you have unconsciously h5"pnotized 
Lorita ?” 

“ You may well say ^ unconsciously,’ Polly, for no 
such thought was in my mind ; but if you are correct 
in that surmise, perhaps I may be able to recall her to 
consciousness.” 

“ Oh, do, please, try, Clarence ! See ! Already the 
expression of her face has changed ; her eyes are 
closed now, and’ she doesn’t look nearly so alarming as 
she did at first. Ought we to send for Doctor Mac, 
mamma ?” 

During the talk between her mother and Stanley, 
Mary had been kneeling beside the sofa on which 
Dolores had been placed, and she had been trying by 
every means in her power to restore the insensible girl 
to consciousness. She now rose at once, while Stanley, 
having moved forward a step or two, fixed his gaze 
intently on the insensible face of Dolores, and began 
slowly to make the upward mesmeric passes as he had 
often seen them performed by professors of mesmerism. 

The rigidity of the young girl’s figure had given 
place to the apparent ease and relaxation of slumber ; 
her eyelids had slowly drooped over the dilated, staring 
eyes, while her breathing was as tranquil as that of a 
sleeping child. 

Clarence Stanley continued to make the upward 
mesmeric passes slowly, easily, but with an indescrib- 
able air of authority and triumph, which Mary noted at 
the time and often remembered afterward. 


AT THE OPERA. 


37 


Suddenly the heavy eyelids twitched slightly ; then 
with dazzling quickness, the eyes opened wide, and 
Dolores, amazed but conscious, stared inquiringly at 
the eager, anxious faces that were bending over her. 

“ What has happened ? What is the matter ?” she 
asked almost sharply, and rising quickly as she spoke. 

“ Nothing, dear, except that you have frightened me 
horribly,” answered Mary, as she seated herself beside 
Dolores and put her arm about her. “ You seemed to 
faint almost immediately on seeing Mr. Stanley ; and 
now it appears to have been less a faint than a kind of 
hypnotic trance, from which he has just recovered you, 
by making what they call mesmeric passes.” 

“ Is it possible !” exclaimed Dolores, incredulously ; 
“ but I object to being hypnotized. You must never 
take such a liberty again,” she said imperatively, turn- 
ing a look of great indignation upon Clarence. 

Certainly not,” he answered, with a deprecating 
smile, “ at least not without your permission, sefiorita ; 
but I beg to assure you that on this occasion the effect 
was as unintentional as it was unexpected.” 

Dolores put her hand to her head in a dazed manner, 
and drawing her fingers across her forehead and eyes, 
she asked : 

Did I speak, Maruja, when I was in this tranced 
condition ? Did I say anything ?” 

No, dear, nothing at all. But why ?” 

“ Because I remember a kind of dream — it comes 
back to me now but indistinctly. It was like a vision — 
I saw ! Oh, I cannot describe what it was, but the im- 
pression is horrible — horrible !” 

Her eyes dilated with sudden fear and horror ; and 
turning toward Clarence Stanley, she fixed on him a 
keen, almost menacing look, which affected him more 
than he would have cared to acknowledge even to him- 


38 


THE SPANISH TEEASUKE. 


self. For several seconds her gaze met his, sternly, 
defiantly. At last she said : 

Mr. Stanley, you must never again make use of this 
singular power — if you possess it — to hypnotize me. It 
may be dangerous ; and even more dangerous to you 
than to me.” 

“ Why so ?” exclaimed Stanley, unable to restrain a 
slight start of surprise. 

“ Because in this hypnotic state, I may be clairvoyante. 
I have read something of the sort, though I don’t under- 
stand it. And you may be one of those people of whom 
clairvoyant revelations might be fatal.” 

A gleam of mingled anger and terror shot from the 
young man’s eyes, and his slender, white hand went 
quickly toward his mouth, which it concealed for some 
moments as he seemed to caress the long ends of his 
blonde mustache. Then, with a slightly mocking smile, 
he answered : 

“ I think I have no cause to fear the Sefiorita Men- 
doza. If I don’t much mistake, we are far away cousins, 
and our lives will often run in the same channels.” 

Dolores looked greatly perplexed as well as aston- 
ished, and Mary hastened to explain Stanley’s words 
on first hearing the name of Dolores Mendoza. 

“That would be strange indeed,” she said in reply. 
“ I thought my father’s branch of the family extinct, 
except for myself. But, even if you are correct, I can- 
not congratulate you in claiming kinship with the Men- 
dozas. We are a fatal family, except under special 
conditions, particularly the men of our family. But, 
pardon me, Mr. Stanley ; I am afraid you will think me 
very rude. I hope the curious circumstances of our first 
meeting will serve to excuse me. Maruja, dearest, may 
I go to my room ? This singular scene has affected me 
so much that I feel almost ill,” 


AT THE OPERA. 


39 


You shall do just as you please, Rita, darling, at all 
times,” said Mary Hamilton. “Come, I will go with 
you, and you will entertain Clarence till I return, 
mamma.” 

Not a word or even a look was exchanged between 
Mary and Dolores till they were alone in the latter’s 
room. Then, indeed, the Spanish girl impulsively 
clasped her companion in her arms and in a voice 
of thrilling intensity said : 

“ Oh, Maruja ! I hope you do not love that man !” 

“ Love him ? No — yes ! I hardly know !” exclaimed 
Polly Hamilton, very pale from suppressed excitement. 
“ You remember what I said to you, Rita ; and, oh, I 
did so long to know your impressions of him ! But now 
that they seem to be so far from what I had hoped for 
I think I would rather never hear them. ” 

“ They are not pleasant, truly — they are far from 
pleasant — and yet I cannot remain silent, Maruja, even 
though that seems to be what you would prefer. I can- 
not tell you why I have this great and sudden antag- 
onism to Mr. Stanley — it may be caused by the dream 
or vision while I was unconscious — but I have always 
had a faculty that some people call intuition, a sort of 
second-sight — I don’t know how best to describe it 
— but it has never deceived me. Perhaps I inherit it 
from my Scotch ancestry through my Highland mother, 
or perhaps the mystic faculty that belonged to the 
Indian princess of whom I told you has descended 
through all these generations and lives again in me. 
Some day soon we will read that manuscript together, 
and then you will understand better what I am trying 
to explain, Maruja ; but whatever this faculty may be, 
whatever it is now telling me of the character and of 
the unknown past of Clarence Stanley — ” 

“ Lorita !” exclaimed Mary Hamilton, with a sharp 


40 


THE SPANISH TEEASIJRE. 


accent of pain in her fresh, young voice, “ surely — oh, 
no, it cannot be that you are going to bring me unhap- 
piness, misery! I will not— I dare not believe any 
harm of the man I love !" 

She turned quickly as she wrenched herself from the 
half-embrace of Dolores ; and, as she rushed from the 
room, the door closed after her with a harsh and angry 
sound. 

“ The man she loves !” repeated Dolores, gazing 
blankly at that closed door. “ Ah, now she knows her 
true feeling, and I have only precipitated matters. I 
had better, far better, have said nothing.” 

Mary Hamilton had fled blindly along the corridor to 
the solitude of her own room, the door of which she had 
closed and locked impatiently in the face of her anxious 
waiting-maid. 

What have I said she questioned herself, uncon- 
sciously speaking aloud. “ That I love Clarence ? Well, 
then, it is true. I have loved him from the first, though 
I didn’t know it ; and now I am glad to have the knowl- 
edge forced upon me — that is — if he loves me !” 

She started from the chair into which she had thrown 
herself and rushed to a mirror, before which she stood 
for some moments in unusual anxiety, that presently 
gave place to pleased and innocent admiration of her 
own girlish beauty. 

“ I'm surely pretty enough to win any man ?” she 
said. “ Not so beautiful — oh, not nearly so beautiful — 
as Rita ; but, fortunately, she will never be a rival, for 
she hates poor Clarence, and, apparently, he is not 
specially pleased with her. How strange ! It is a case 
of mutual antipathy. I have heard Doctor Mac say these 
mutual dislikes are scientific facts. And I was so anx- 
ious they should like each other ! Well, well, perhaps 
it is all for the best ; and I must keep them apart as 


AT THE OPERA. 


41 


much as possible ! I hope dear Rita didn’t think me 
cross ; and, as to Norah, I don’t think I ever spoke so 
crossly to the girl since she has been in my service 1” 

With a light laugh, Polly Hamilton unlocked her door, 
called to the perplexed and disconsolate waiting-maid, 
who was pacing up and down the hall, and in a brief 
time was dressed and looking radiant, as she went into 
dinner with Clarence Stanley. 

That gentleman, whatever his inward perturbation of 
mind might have been — and the recent scene in the 
drawing-room had made a powerful impression on 
him — had never seemed to the Hamilton family more 
interesting or more engaging. He was immediately 
conscious of a difference in Mary. There was an indefin- 
able softness in her aspect, a faint, roseate glow on 
her face ; and when their glances met, her look dwelt 
on him with a modest air of possession extremely flat- 
tering to his vanity. Later in the evening, as they sat 
beside each other at the opera, it was the same ; and 
Clarence unconsciously dropped into a manner of lover- 
like devotion far more pronounced than had ever been 
seen in his previous acquaintance with Miss Hamilton. 

They had been bending forward over the front of the 
box, for the moment both quite absorbed in the music ; 
but when the curtain fell they had both drawn back a 
little, and two pairs of eyes, belonging to two young 
women in the stalls, who had been earnestly watching 
them, now looked at each other and smiled. 

“ Of course, they are engaged ?” said Olive Gaye, 
interrogatively ; but although the words were spoken 
more as an assertion than a question, a close observer 
might have detected an undertone of anxiety in the 
manner of the speaker. 

“ They certainly seem like an engaged couple 
to-night,” returned Bertha Sefton ; “ but, if they are, I 


42 


THE SPANISH TEEASHRE. 


am sure the engagement is of recent date. You know 
I am Polly Hamilton’s most intimate friend — at least I 
was till within a few weeks — and I am certain that no 
one was more entirely in her confidence than I used to 
be. You know I had met her in San Francisco when 
we were there more than a year ago ; we were con- 
stantly thrown together. I visited at her house for 
weeks at a time, and met Mr. Stanley there almost every 
day ; and, although it was currently reported then that 
Clarence and Polly were engaged, I knew from her own 
lips that they were not. Since she has come to New 
York, our intimacy has been renewed, and I feel sure 
as I can be of anything that Polly would have told me 
if there had been any change in their relations toward 
each other. I always thought she was in love with Mr. 
Stanley, though she didn’t seem to understand her own 
feelings ; but it never seemed to me that he was in love 
with her, although he followed her everywhere and 
really stood in the way of any other man paying atten- 
tion to her. He seems to me more like a man who was 
watching a business speculation than like a young man 
in love with a pretty girl.” 

The listener laughed slightly and turned her gaze 
again toward the box in which were seated Clarence 
Stanley and Mary Hamilton. The latter were some- 
what in the shadow of the curtain, and still further hid- 
den from view by the figure of Mrs. Hamilton, who had 
come to the front of the box ; but to those who were 
now watching them with the keenness of personal inter- 
est it was evident that these two young people were at 
that moment so completely wrapped up in each other 
as to be almost unconscious of their surroundings. 

“ He looks now,” said Olive, in a low but distinct 
tone, “ as if he had made up his mind that the specula- 
tion was going to be a paying one.” 


AT THE OPERA. 


43 


‘‘Yes,” answered Bertha, “he looks as if he had 
determined to marry Polly Hamilton.” 

At that moment a sharp exclamation caused both 
speakers to turn suddenly in the direction whence it 
had come — to meet the sparkling gaze of a pair of 
beautiful flashing dark eyes. Those eyes were so beau- 
tiful and so brilliant that it was several moments before 
either of the young girls recovered from her surprise 
sufficiently to understand what had happened. But in 
the meantime the owner of these eyes had spoken, and 
with a smile that gave added radiance to her beauty 
was explaining the cause of a trifling accident and her 
own sudden exclamation. 

“ Pardon,” she said in perfect English but with a 
strong though charming foreign accent, “ it is only my 
poor fan.” And she held up the wreck of an elegant 
fan in lace and mother-of-pearl. “ I am the only per- 
son to blame. In mere forgetfulness I had rested my 
hand on the back of mademoiselle’s chair, and when 
she leaned against it the poor fan was crushed. I was 
startled into exclaiming aloud. Pray, pardon me !” 

“ Oh, dear !” exclaimed Bertha, who saw at once that 
she had brought destruction on the fan. “ I’m afraid 
it is I who ought to be making apologies — how awk- 
ward of me — I am so very sorry.” 

“ No — I beg — don’t give yourself a thought about it, 
mademoiselle ; it is really my fault entirely. To be 
quite frank, I was trying to see the gentleman in the 
box yonder. I am certain that I recognize an old 
friend, but I couldn’t catch his attention, and that is 
why I leaned forward and forgot all about my poor 
fan.” 

“ Mr. Stanley, you mean ? Is he a friend of yours ?” 
said Bertha, impulsively. 


4 : 4 : THE SPANISH TEEASTJRE. 

** Stanley, did you call him ? Monsieur Stanley — ah ! 
Then I must have made a mistake,” said the fair for- 
eigner in a disappointed tone. 

“The Honorable Clarence Stanley,” said Bertha, 
with a sudden curiosity as to what the owner of the 
fine eyes might say in reply. “ A young Englishman 
who has but recently come to New York,” 

“Ah, the Honorable Clarence Stanley, an English- 
man, then I am mistaken ; but I could only see his side- 
face from here. The gentleman I meant was not an 
Englishman and quite a different person. Thanks, so 
much, mademoiselle, for giving me the name.” 

Bertha murmured some further apology for the 
breaking of the fan, at which the foreign lady’s com- 
panion, a stout, elderly man with a very red face and 
very white hair said impatiently : 

“ What is all this talk about a broken fan, Celestine ? 
What nonsense ! I will buy you a dozen fans !” 

The owner of the fan shrugged her graceful shoul- 
ders, and murmured in a low tone : 

“ Mon mart J'* 

Preliminary sounds were heard from the neighbor- 
hood of the stage, heralding the return of the orches- 
tra ; the curtain rolled up, and the third act of the 
opera began. 



CHAPTER VII. 

AN AMBITIOUS GIRL. 

Bertha Sefton, who went to the opera for the purpose 
of hearing the music — an uncommon reason — gave her 
entire attention to the business of listening to it ; but 
her companion, who was seated farthest away from the 
rest of their party, felt that the mimic drama going on 
before her had suddenly lost all interest in comparison 
to the more personal one which she had now an oppor- 
tunity of studying. She had but recently returned 
from England, where she had spent several months ; 
and while there she had become acquainted with the 
Earl of Windermere and his family ; and she had been 
admitted to a degree of intimacy that is only permitted 
on brief acquaintance to young, pretty and rich Ameri- 
can g^rls. 

Olive Gaye was not rich, and, to many persons, she 
was not even pretty ; but she had that mysterious 
quality which the French call chic,'" and which in 
English can only be described as a combination of tact, 
style and personal fascination. All this, together with 
a groundless reputation as an heiress, had opened many 
very tall doors to her in English society which would 
have remained closed without these recommendations 

[ 45 ] 


46 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


to worldly success. Under an appearance of almost 
childlike ingenuousness, she carried an amount of 
worldly knowledge that might have done credit to any 
dowager-leader of fashion and a cold, determined, per- 
sistent ambition, of which few people even suspected 
the existence. This almost baby-like appearance of 
ingenuousness now enabled her to watch Stanley and 
Polly Hamilton, to seem at times absorbed in the play 
and music and to keep an observant eye upon the 
owner of the broken fan, the foreigner, whose elderly 
husband had addressed her as Celestine ; and all this 
Olive Gaye managed to do without attracting any 
more attention to herself than a well-behaved child 
might have done. It was not the least of this young 
lady’s charms that there was something attractive even 
about her way of being rude. She quickly perceived 
that Polly Hamilton was also giving her undivided 
attention to the music, having come for the same rea- 
son as Bertha ; and Stanley, now that he was no longer 
devoting himself in word and look to his companion, 
ceased to appear to this shrewd observer so much like 
an engaged lover. 

“ No, he doesn’t love her,” she thought ; “ but he 
chooses to have her believe that he does. If he has 
made up his mind to marry her, of course, that amounts 
to the same thing. Does he love any one, I wonder ? 
Or is he capable of love ? I fear not, and those men 
are al^vays the hardest to manage. Now, I have made 
up my mind to marry him, if circumstances make it 
worth while ; and if the little boy should die, it would 
be very well worth while, for Lord Appleby is a 
doomed man. He can’t live six months, and though 
the child seems bright and healthy, he inherits the 
malady that is killing the father. A sudden shock, a 
severe cold, a fall from his pony may kill him any day. 


AN AMBITIOUS GIKL, 


47 


It is more than an even chance that the wife of the Hon- 
orable Clarence Stanley may one day be Countess of 
Windermere — a pretty title, and I like it, too ; it will 
suit me." 

A ripple of merriment flashed over the pale, clear 
face, lighting up the soft, tranquil eyes and giving the 
delicate cheeks and chin gentler and rounder curves. 

“ ‘ Countess of Windermere !’ I have often written it 
on my card," she said to herself, continuing her mental 
soliloquy; ‘‘and perhaps it might have been wise if I 
had gone further and had it engraved there. The dear 
old earl ! Wasn’t he in love with me ? There is no 
fool like an old fool ; and, after all, he may outlive both 
sons and grandson ; but if he does, my power remains. 
Men of his age and temperament, when they fall in love 
at all, don’t get over it easily, nor are they in a hurry to 
repeat the experiment. Clarence looks well ; he is 
wonderfully handsome ; but not at all like the old earl 
nor like Lord Appleby either. Does he inherit the 
fatal malady that is killing his brother ? They must 
have it on the mother’s side, for their father is as hale 
and strong as his youngest son. But if that is not your 
particular weakness, my handsome Clarence, I must find 
out just what it is, for you will never be as much in love 
with me as your papa is." 

As this thought passed through her mind, Olive 
Gaye moved slightly and turned her head, so that, 
without seeming to stare at her, she could look calmly 
and deliberately at her near neighbor, Madame Celes- 
tine. That the young foreigner was a women of sur- 
passing loveliness she had quickly seen in the merely 
passing glimpse already bestowed on her ; and now, 
looking at her critically and leisurely, she found that 
the first impression was only deepened by more 
extended observation. 


48 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


What a beauty !” she thought, without a twinge of 
envy ; for this singular girl had almost a contempt for 
mere physical beauty. “ It is a compensation to have 
no beauty rather than be put in competition with such 
prelection as that. I suppose she has no brains at all. 
For nature is just, and when she turns them out like 
that, she generally puts all their goods in the show- 
window. But wait a minute, Olive, my dear. Perhaps 
there is more in this show-window than appears at the 
first glance. If she was mistaken in her supposed 
recognition of my handsome Clarence, why does she look 
at him in that way 

Olive Gaye had more than once seen the expression 
which passionate love could give to the human face, 
and she had never before seen that expression more 
intense than it now showed in the beautiful features 
and glowing dark eyes of Madame Celestine. 

“ She loves him !” thought Olive. “ That is not a 
mere memory called up by a resemblance, real or 
imaginary — it is the man she is now looking at that she 
loves. There is some mystery here, and if I can solve 
it, perhaps it may be of use to me. If he had any sen- 
sibility, such a look would magnetize him, but he 
hasn't ; another sign that he will not be an easy man 
to deal with ; but, no matter. Nothing that is worth 
having is easy to get. But I do wish he would look this 
way for an instant ; I would give much to see his face 
if he should suddenly meet that woman’s eyes. But, 
no ! Bertha’s head is in the way ; even if he should 
look he wouldn’t see her ; there, the act is over !” 

And as the curtain fell, Clarence Stanley again bent 
toward Polly Hamilton, and the two were presently once 
more absorbed in themselves. As they drew back into 
the box, Olive heard a long-drawn sigh from the lips 
of Madame Celestine. It was a most eloquent sigh. 


AN AMBITIOUS GIRL. 


49 


and told of hopeless love, and passionate, despairing 
jealousy more plainly than a whole torrent of words 
could have done. 

“ Who can she be ?” thought Olive Gaye. “ They are 
not in society here, and yet they are evidently wealthy. 
And with her beauty. But no doubt they are strangers 
here — new arrivals in the city. Bertha, dear,” and she 
turned toward her companion, who had just ceased 
from rapturous applause of the prima- donna ^ “ I want to 
know your friend, Polly Hamilton ; she seems a charm- 
ing girl. When will you take me there ?” 

“ Whenever you please ; any day you say — to-mor- 
row if you like.” 

“ Very well, then — to-morrow,” said Olive, with a 
pretty air of decision, which, curiously enough, left on 
Bertha’s mind the impression that she had decided the 
matter — one of the many ways in which Olive Gaye 
managed to have her own way, while other people im- 
agined that they gave it to her. 

The usual hubbub of talk and movement, almost as 
loud as that of children let loose from school, succeeded 
the fall of the curtain ; and in a momentary pause, Olive 
Gaye, who was all eyes and ears, heard the foreign 
lady’s husband speaking, in a wearied tone : 

“ Have you not had enough of this, Celestine. I am 
deadly tired of it,” he said. 

From Celestine there was a low murmur of reply in 
French, and Olive could only guess at the substance of 
it, for she heard only two or three words. Evidently 
madame was not so tired, however, and had determined 
to stay to the end of the opera ; for the elderly gentle- 
man shrugged his shoulders impatiently, and then 
settled himself to another thirty minutes of endurance. 

“ She wants to watch him !’’ thought Miss Gaye, 
keeping an attentive gaze on Madame Celestine. “ Yes, 


50 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


there is certainly a mystery here, and I must get the 
clue to it. Bertha, dear,” she said aloud, but without 
removing her watchful gaze from the beautiful face of 
the unknown Frenchwoman, “ what did you mean, a 
little while ago, when you said that you had been the 
most intimate friend of Polly Hamilton ? You haven’t 
quarreled, have you ?” 

“ Quarreled ! Oh, my, no ! I never quarrel,” said 
Bertha, placidly. “ But Polly has a new friend now, 
and I sometimes felt a little bit hurt to feel myself 
almost set aside, though I have really no cause for com- 
plaint. At the best, our intimacy was only an acciden- 
tal one ; there was no deep friendship about it. And 
Polly is just as sweet as ever she can be ; but she loves 
this new girl. She’s downright silly about her.” 

You good little thing ! I should be awfully jeal- 
ous !” exclaimed Olive. “ But who is this new girl ? 
Don’t you hate her ?” 

“ Not in the least. I’m never jealous, and she is a 
lovely girl. Her name is Dolores Mendoza.” 

At the sound of this name, Madame Celestine gave 
an almost convulsive start. It was so sudden that she 
could not immediately control the effect produced on her 
feelings, and her gaze, which had been concentrated on 
the occupants of the box, was turned with startling sud- 
denness on Bertha. Her face, which was very pale, 
immediately became suffused with color on meeting 
Olive’s gaze, for she felt instinctively that she was being 
watched. She leaned back in her chair and made a 
ridiculous feint of using her broken fan with the air of 
a petulant child. Olive Gaye continued her talk with 
her companion. 

“ How very singular ! Quite like the things that 
happen in story-books, Bertha, because that is a name 
associated with the Windermere family ! I don’t 


AN AMBITIOUS GIRL. 


51 


exactly know how, except that the heir-at-law, if the 
Honorable Clarence and his brother and nephew should 
die, happens to be a Mendoza — owing to the marriage 
of another branch of the Stanleys with a Spanish family 
of that name. They are so mixed up, those old-country 
aristocratic families, one has to study the Peerage ’ 
several hours a day in order to know all about them.” 

Olive knew now that her neighbor was watching and 
listening even more intently than she had herself been 
doing ; and it was a disappointment to both when the 
curtain again rolled up and the last act of the opera 
began. 

“ ‘ The plot thickens,’ ” she said to herself with the 
slow, childlike smiles that had captivated the old Earl 
of Windermere, though it had not deceived him, “ and 
the mystery is becoming decidedly interesting. The 
name of Mendoza has some very unusual association 
for the lady of the broken fan ; the Honorable Clarence 
has peculiar associations with that name, too, and she has 
known and loved him — and, apparently, loves him still — 
but, evidently, under a different name. But, to her, a 
rose by any other name is just the same. Now, what 
does all this mean, I wonder ? Well, it will give me 
something to do to unravel this pretty tangle, and I 
enjoy it more than a play. Life is very dramatic and 
so unexpected !” 

The opera was now coming to an end, and as 
Madame Celestine and her husband rose hastily and 
were soon lost in the crowd the moment the curtain 
fell, Miss Olive Gaye had no further opportunity then 
for observation of the life-drama which, in its first 
stages, she had found so interesting. But she didn’t 
dismiss it from her mind ; on the contrary, it occupied 
her every thought, and her first act, when she reached 


52 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


home, was to write the following letter to a friend in 
England : 

“ Dearest Toddlekins : 

“ What was that story you once began to tell me, and 
never had an opportunity to finish, about the Stanley 
family — do you remember, dear ? — and the quarrel of 
the Hon. Clarence with his papa ? And how are poor, 
dear Lord Appleby and his most interesting little boy } 
If my memory doesn’t make me mistake, you began to 
tell me about the cause of Clarence Stanley’s finally 
quarreling with his father in such a serious manner that 
they parted forever— and the earl is such a perfect gen- 
tleman ! It is hard for me to imagine any one having 
such a serious quarrel with him. You spoke, too, of the 
Mendoza branch of the family, and of a young lady to 
whom Clarence was engaged, and with whom he had 
seemed deeply in love. I am interested in this, because 
there is a young lady here whose name is Mendoza — 
not a common name, you know ; and it has occurred to 
me that she may be in some way related to the Stanley 
Mendozas. That photograph of the Hon. Clarence that 
you once showed me was very handsome — I never 
dared speak of him to the earl, it was such a sore sub- 
ject ; otherwise I would have asked for a picture of him. 
I have pictures of Lord Appleby and his wife and also 
of the little boy — the dear little fellow ! Now, Toddie, 
dear, couldn't you send me a photo of Clarence ? If that 
is impossible, have a copy made from your own, and let 
me bear the expense. Won’t you do this for your own, 
dear, naughty, willful Nollikens ?’* 

Having carefully sealed and stamped this letter, 
Olive Gaye rang for a servant. The servants and 
others of the Gaye family had long since ceased to be 


THE SECRET OF THE MINIATURE. 


53 


imposed on by the childlike ingenuousness and sweet- 
ness of this young person. She therefore wasted no 
infantine smiles on the messenger into whose hands she 
gave her letter. 

“ Stephen, see that this letter gets into the mail that 
leaves for Queenstown to-morrow morning. Let there 
be no mistake. The Servia sails at eight o’clock.” 

“ Yes, miss,” answered Stephen. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE vSECRET OF THE MINIATURE. 

When Polly Hamilton reached her home after the 
opera on the night that was to be memorable in her life 
she felt that she was a very happy girl. No words of 
love, nothing that could have been called a declaration 
on the one hand or an acceptance on the other, had 
passed between her and Clarence Stanley, but she 
knew that she loved him, and she felt that she need 
never again doubt his love for her. The only thought 
that troubled her was that “ Rita ! Dear, darling Rita !” 
would not be equally happy in this knowledge. 

“And, oh, I do hope that I didn't seem cross and 
heartless towards her. I must see her for a minute 
before I can sleep to-night, and she must know that I 
love her now and always the same as ever,” she 
thought, as she hurried toward her own room, pausing 
a moment at the door leading into that of Dolores. 

“ Come in,” said an eager voice, when she tapped on 
the door ; and entering, she was met by Dolores, who 
came toward her with outstretched arms. 


54 


THE SPANISH TKEASUEE. 


“ Thanks, Maruja, for coming in to say ‘ Good-night/ 

I couldn’t have slept if you hadn’t. I have been so 
vexed to think I might have wounded you.” 

“You couldn’t have wounded me on purpose, Rita. 
And do you think I would ever have allowed myself to 
feel hurt so long as I knew that ? Besides, it is all a 
mistake — a mere, unreasonable fancy on your part, 
dear. Clarence is all that is fine and noble ; and when 
you know him better, I am sure you will think so, too.” 

“ I’m sure I hope so, Maruja ; and I have been taking 
myself to task all the evening for allowing myself to 
seem harsh and unjust toward any one whom you care 
for. Since you love him, he must be good and worthy. 
You could not throw your heart’s best love away on a 
bad man.” 

“ Oh, as to that, Rita, I have no judgment about 
men ; always remember that, my dear ; but this isn’t a 
matter of judgment. I love Clarence and he loves me ; 
and, as you say, that is proof enough that he is worthy. 
And he is so interested in you, Rita ; we talked about 
you all the evening. His mother’s father was directly 
descended from a branch of the Mendoza family, and 
his name was Raphael Felix Mendoza Stanhope. I 
don’t know how Clarence remembers all his relations, 
there are so many of them. And now, if it turns out 
that you are a far-off cousin, he will have one more to 
remember. Oh, Rita, dear, do let us set a day for read- 
ing that wonderful manuscript of yours ; and left Clar- 
ence be present on that occasion, will you 

Dolores shrank instinctively from this proposition, 
and she answered coldly : 

“ I hardly think I can do that. The story is a singu- 
lar one, and the ancestor whose exploits it celebrates 
was by no means a person to be proud of. I don’t 
mind talking over my family affairs with you, Maruja ; 


THE SECRET OF THE MINIATITEE. 


55 


but with a stranger ! You must see how different that 
would be.” 

“ But if he isn’t a stranger — at least, in that sense ? 
If Clarence really, on his mother’s side, belongs to the 
Mendoza family ? And I feel sure it is the same 
branch of the family, for there are legends of Indian 
ancestors among these English Mendozas, too, and I 
am getting wildly excited about this story. Now, 
when will you let us have the reading of it, Lorita 

“ Soon,” said Dolores, with a playful air of mystery, 

but not quite yet.” 

“ And you will let Clarence be present, to please 
me ?” 

“ I would do a great deal to please you, Maruja,” 
answered Dolores, with the indulgent manner of an 
elder sister — a manner that had already become very 
dear to Polly Hamilton — “and I suppose I shall do 
this.” 

“ Oh, you sweet thing !” exclaimed the happy girl, 
with the effusiveness of her sex and age. “ And now 
good-night. Not for the world would I be the cause of 
dark rings about those lovely eyes of yours to-morrow 
— good-night and happy dreams to you, my Rita !” 

Dolores sighed deeply as the door closed after Polly, 
and she murmured sadly : 

“ And yet something tells me she will never — never 
be happy with that man, even if he loves her, and I 
don’t think that he does. I wish from my heart that 
she had never seen his false and cruel face !” 

It was now after midnight, and a brilliant sky, starred 
with myriad points of diamond light, was visible through 
the window from which the shade had been accidentally 
pushed aside. Dolores, with a quick impulse to breathe 
in the beauty of the midnight hour, turned out the arti- 
ficial glare of the gas, drew up the window-shade, and 


56 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


stood gazing out at the sky. The silvery radiance of the 
stars mingled with the moonlike light of the electric 
lamps, and touched with beauty all the commonplace 
and often repulsive objects that spoil the view by day- 
light ; but though she was vaguely conscious of this, 
Dolores was looking straight into the stars overhead, 
and the calmness and restful joy which that spectacle 
had always brought to her now stole gently into her 
troubled mind. The soul seemed to float away through 
the depths of space ; visions of celestial repose and love- 
liness stretched out before her inward sight ; the rhythm 
and harmony of the spheres, circling forever in their 
millions of orbits, seemed like unknown but heavenly 
music wafted to some secret sense of hearing deep 
within her inmost being. And then, as it had been 
always from her earliest childhood, she was suddenly 
conscious of a Presence — nothing tangible and nothing 
in the least degree terrifying. It was an atmosphere of 
something exquisitely pure and spiritual, the tremulous, 
pulsating breath of a guardian angel. A feeling of 
great content and happiness took possession of her ; and 
gently drawing down the shade, she turned away from 
the window and began her preparations for bed, and 
her one thought was : 

“ Everything will be well and as it should be if we 
will but wait and be patient. Ah, if I could only 
remember that, but I am so prone to doubt and to fear 
and to anticipate the worst. Perhaps the many disap- 
pointments and sorrows of life have made me so ; but 
I must strive against that tendency ; the bright beings 
of a higher life can only come close to us when we are 
at our best. Let me try always to remember that — ” 

As she placed her head on the downy pillow, Dolores 
was already almost in a dream, out of which a radiant 
face seemed to smile upon her, and across her brow and 


THE SECRET OP THE MINIATURE. 


57 


cheek she felt a touch as soft and sweet as the dropping 
of rose-leaves. 

Mamma, dearest," she murmured, “ is it you ? Ah, 
yes, my own mamma, it must be you, for nothing can 
keep our mother from us. Nothing — not even death !" 

And then Dolores slept, tranquilly, happily ; and 
such sleep might well have drawn the angels to look on 
it and bless it. 

Determined that nothing merely fanciful should cause 
her to bring sorrow to the girl who had rescued her 
from loneliness and poverty, Dolores set herself the 
task of looking for every good quality in the character 
of Clarence Stanley, with the necessary accompaniment 
to such a search, of being as blind as possible to his 
defects ; and, looked at from this point of view, she was 
surprised to find how pleasing a person that gentleman 
all at once became. As to whether this was a right or 
wise thing to do, she did not yet pause to ask herself. 
She was so fond of Polly, and grateful affection went 
so far beyond anything else, that her impulse was to 
think nothing and feel nothing except what were calcu- 
lated to make Polly happy. 

And Polly was happy. Her pretty face beamed with 
joy when she saw how entirely her new sister seemed to 
have changed her views in regard to Clarence. 

Mr. Stanley, according to his almost invariable cus- 
tom, called to see Polly about the middle of the after- 
noon on the day succeeding their evening at the opera, 
and he was agreeably surprised to find himself very 
cordially received by Dolores. The possibility of their 
relationship to each other formed a subject of engross- 
ing interest to Polly ; and it was, also, very interesting 
to themselves, although, at first, such a supposition was 
far from attractive to the young Spanish girl. But the 
thought grew upon her ; and as she saw Mary Hamil- 


58 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


ton’s pleasure in the idea, and as she reflected that, if 
related to this handsome young Englishman, she was 
also related to his whole family, a sudden desire awoke 
in her heart that the surmise might prove a correct 
one. 

It was very sad to stand all alone in a great wide 
world where all others — the poorest, the most wretched 
— had brothers and sisters or other relatives. She had 
never felt it while her mother still lived, for in the pas- 
sionate devotion that embraced all kindred in that one 
relationship, Dolores had never felt the want of any 
other love. But all was different now ; even her affec- 
tion for Mary would be increased, if possible, by know- 
ing that she would become the wife of a man who was 
in reality the relative and cousin he declared himself 
to be. 

And what a handsome fellow he was, this Clarence 
Stanley, and bright and charming, too ; and, yes, no 
doubt lovable and noble, for the man who smiled in 
that way into the sweet uplifted face of Polly Hamilton 
must be worthy of regard and admiration. 

“ Without doubt you two are of the same race,” said 
Polly, triumphantly. “ I can now trace a personal 
resemblance between you — in fact, I have been aware 
of it from the first, though I didn’t know just what it 
was. But, Rita, dear, your face was like a face that I 
had seen before — like one with which I was familiar, 
from the moment I first saw you. All faces we really 
love are like that, I think ; and I explained it that way 
to myself. But now I know there was even more in it 
than that ; it was the resemblance to Clarence.” 

Dolores listened to these words with an indescrib- 
able feeling made up of many different emotions ; there 
was a sudden overwhelming return of her first antag- 
onism toward Stanley ; and as she glanced at him there 


THE SECRET OF THE MINIATURE. 


59 


was a startled terror in the conviction that they did look 
alike ; though it would have been difficult to say just 
where the resemblance was ; and yet there was that 
‘ family likeness,** as it is called, so quickly recognized 
and yet so difficult to describe ; but stronger than all 
else, she was conscious of Polly Hamilton’s love for 
this man, of whom, a day or two before, she had said 
that she was afraid she “ liked him.” 

“Liked him,” thought Dolores, with a shiver of appre- 
hension, as she watched her friend’s beaming face, her 
flushed cheek, her eloquent, glowing eyes, and the 
glances she bestowed on the object of her regard, “ that 
‘ liking ’ has now passed into something little short of 
adoration !” 

Ignorant as she was of the passion of love, and all 
unlearned as to girlish fancies, Dolores knew quite well 
that Polly Hamilton’s heart was thoroughly awakened, 
and that she had, at one plunge, precipitated herself 
into the depths of this wildest sea of emotion. 

That thought recalled her to her former intention to 
see only what was pleasant in Clarence Stanley, and 
again she repressed the feeling of repulsion against him 
that had almost overcome her. 

“ Yes,” she said, glancing at him, “ we are alike, some- 
what, and as I remember my poor father, though I was 
very young when he died, Mr. Stanley looks even like 
him. I am more like mamma, Maruja, though she was 
so lovely that it seems vanity in me to say so — ” 

“ Lovely ! Yes, indeed ! Oh, Clarence, you never 
saw such a beautiful face ! Rita, will you let us look at 
the picture ? Dear, where is it ? Can I get it ?” 

Dolores drew the miniature from her pocket and, open- 
ing the case, handed it to Polly, who in turn gave it to 
Stanley; at least she held out the case to him and, as he 
took hold of it, their hands were pressed against each 


60 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


Other, and they stood gazing on the fair face of her who 
had been Alice Lindsay, and who now lay in a nameless 
grave among strangers, forgotten by all the world save 
one slight girl to whom that thought was now so bitterly 
present that she turned away from the sight of these 
lovers who were looking at her mother’s picture. 

As Dolores walked to the other side of the room, a 
servant announced the arrival of callers, and Polly, with 
a bright blush, started away from Stanley, leaving the 
miniature in his hand. 

Oh, Bertha,” exclaimed Polly, “ I am delighted to 
see you ! How you have neglected me ! Miss Gaye, I 
am so glad ! How sweet of you to bring your friend to 
see me, Bertha ! She has spoken of you so often. Miss 
Gaye, I don’t feel at all that you are a stranger. Pray 
allow me : Miss Gaye, Mr. Stanley ; Miss Sefton, Mr. 
Stanley.” 

I am particularly glad to meet Mr. Stanley,” said 
Olive Gaye, extending her hand, “ because I had the 
pleasure of meeting his family when I was abroad.” 

“ Indeed ?” exclaimed Clarence, as he touched the 
extended hand. 

And perhaps he was the first young man in all her 
experience of them who felt it necessary, on first meet- 
ing her, to be on his guard against the ingenuous Olive 
Gaye. 

“ Yes, indeed, what a charming man your papa is, Mr. 
Stanley ! Dear old gentleman ! Till I met the Earl of 
Windermere, I really felt a little timid about meeting 
noblemen. In my innocent ignorance I couldn’t quite 
recognize that they were like other people ; but your 
papa quite cured me of that feeling, Mr. Stanley. And 
then your brother. Lord Appleby ! He is a most 
delightful person.” 

“Ah! We are a delightful family altogether, Miss 


THE SECRET OF THE MINIATURE. 


61 


Gaye,” said the Hon. Clarence Stanley, good-humor- 
edly. 

“ Yes, Mr. Stanle)’’, you are a delightful family ; and 
Lady Appleby and the dear little boy, the new heir to 
Windermere, and even dear old Toddlekins !” 

“ Ah, indeed ! There you have the advantage of me. 
Miss Gaye. You see it is many years since I left Eng- 
land, and my brother was not yet married. I hope the 
dear little boy is quite well. I know nothing that would 
distress me more than any accident to him. But, * dear 
old Toddlekins!’ Now, who is Toddlekins? That is 
a member of the Stanley family with whom I am not 
at all acquainted.” 

“ Why, of course ; because I bestowed that name 
upon her myself. Toddlekins is the old-maid sister of 
Lady Appleby.” 

“ Really, I had quite forgotten her I And by that 
name, too ! But, since you have bestowed it on her, I 
am quite charmed to make her acquaintance.” 

But she has not forgotten you, Mr. Stanley. Ah, 
no ! You are quite a hero to her, and she has a picture 
of you about which she is quite silly. She has it set up 
in her room like a saint in a shrine.” 

“ A picture of me !” exclaimed Clarence Stanley, and 
his hand closed convulsively upon the miniature he had 
been holding. He was conscious of the violence of his 
own grasp, and he felt the old and worn hinge of the 
frame snap. How provoking ! Dolores would be dis- 
tressed at the accident, and he was very anxious to do 
nothing that might annoy her. 

Mary Hamilton, vaguely conscious that something 
like a duel of words was taking place between Clarence 
and this new acquaintance but quite unable to guess at 
the meaning of it, had taken Bertha Sefton to the other 
side of the room to meet Dolores, and the three girls 


62 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


stood there, exchanging commonplaces and feeling 
uncomfortable. Bertha was wishing that she had not 
brought Olive, and wondering at her curious manner 
toward Mr. Stanley ; Polly was thinking that Olive 
Gaye was “ queer,” and Dolores was waiting an oppor- 
tunity to get back her mother's miniature without being 
obliged to ask for it, and feeling that she could not 
endure to have it looked at and spoken about by these 
strangers, even though they were Maruja’s friends. 
Olive Gaye alone was perfectly serene. 

“ ‘ A picture of you !’ ” she was saying, repeating 
Stanley’s last words. “ Why, yes, that is not very sur- 
prising, I am sure. Why shouldn’t dear old Toddlekins 
have a picture of you if she wants one ; and a most 
excellent picture it is, Mr. Stanley. Now, I don’t think 
you at all like your papa, or like Lord Appleby ; but I 
recognized you at once by that picture when I saw you 
last night. Oh ! How did you like the opera ? Wasn’t 
it lovely ? I just dote on music ! Do you 

Clarence declared that he, too, doted on music ; and 
then he said how flattered he felt that Miss Ga5'e had 
recognized him from his resemblance to his picture. 
Mary Hamilton now came toward them to introduce 
Dolores to Miss Gaye ; and Stanley felt that he was at 
that moment almost in love with Polly — pretty, inno- 
cent, good, honest, little Polly. 

He took immediate advantage of this slight diversion 
to retire to a little distance in order to examine how 
much mischief had been done to the miniature. He 
found that the case was not broken ; the slight snap he 
had heard was caused by pressure on what was evi- 
dently a secret spring in the back of the case ; and, as 
this had yielded, apiece of parchment, yellow with age, 
had dropped out of it and now lay in the palm of his hand. 

Clarence cast one quick, startled glance toward Dol- 


THE SECRET OF THE MINIATURE. 


63 


ores, and saw that she was standing with her back 
towards him, talking with Olive Gaye. His heart gave 
a great bound of triumph. 

What was it ? He could scarcely repress his excite- 
ment, so great was his longing to get away where he 
could examine this slip of parchment at his leisure. 
And yet, perhaps, it might prove of no value at all. At 
any rate, it would be well to return the miniature at 
once, and so rouse no suspicion in Dolores, who proba- 
bly knew nothing of the secret contained in it. He 
watched his opportunity, and presently succeeded in 
placing the miniature in her hand in such a manner as 
to attract no attention to it. She gave him a swift, 
grateful look — a look that flashed like light from her 
deep, dark eyes and which sent a strange electrical 
quiver through the heart of Clarence Stanley. But he 
was scarcely conscious of it then, though he remem- 
bered it afterward. His mind was on Are for a single 
glance at the slip of parchment he held in his hand. 
He felt he could not restrain his curiosity any longer, 
and, under cover of examining a book which he had taken 
up from a table, he went over to a window. There he 
opened the parchment, and laying it within the open 
book, he read the first line written across it — read it 
slowly, for it was in the Spanish language — translating 
it carefully, word by word : 

“ Below is given, in cipher, the secret of the hidden treasure 
of the Mendozas, buried in the Santiago Canon S 



CHAPTER IX. 

“knowledge is power.’ 

As the full significance of the first words sank into 
the mind of Clarence Stanley, he became dizzy with the 
possibilities of future wealth that rushed into his 
excited thoughts, for he knew that he possessed in that 
slip of parchment the key to almost fabulous treasure. 
True, the secret was concealed in a cipher that was of 
the most intricate character, but he was not the man to 
be baffled by anything of that sort. He knew that all 
ciphers were made on certain rules ; and, besides, hav- 
ing a natural talent for puzzles of every description, he 
had often amused himself by the working out of vari- 
ous ciphers and cryptographs ; and by then re-arranging 
and transposing them into more difficult forms than 
before, this was mere play. In all arithmetical or alge- 
braic problems there are certain family resemblances 
easily recognizable to a mathematical mind ; it is the 
same in cryptography, or any other species of mental 
gymnastics ; and Stanley felt himself easily master 
of the situation. But the excitement of having this 
secret in his povssession affected him so powerftilly that 
he was obliged to exercise the greatest control over 
himself in order not to betray his feelings. He was, 
however, a person of resources, and startling situations 
[641 













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4 


■ 




t' 



‘4 





4 


1 




4 • 



65 


“ KNOWLEDGE IS POWER.*’ 

were not new experiences to him. He folded the parch- 
ment, took an old-fashioned wallet from his pocket— a 
wallet bearing- his name and the coat of arms of the 
Stanley family ; and having- opened it, he placed the 
precious document in the inmost pocket. Then with great 
deliberation he returned the wallet to its former place, 
and closing the book he carelessly returned it whence he 
had taken it. 

No one had observed him — that he perceived at a 
glance. Mary Hamilton, who had always been, as her 
companions had said, “ a very girly girl,” was, for the 
moment, entirely occupied by her two callers and by 
Dolores. But when Bertha suddenly declared that she 
and Olive had made a very long call and must now 
bring it to an end, Clarence Stanley found himself 
included in the hubbub of good-bye and farewell 
remarks that presently ensued. He took advantage of 
this to bring his own visit to an end ; and notwithstand- 
ing an imploring look from Polly, he took his departure, 
promising to see her on the next day. 

He went directly to his hotel, and as soon as he had 
reached his room he locked his door, sat down at a wri- 
ting-table and placed the parchment with its crypto- 
graph before him. As he sat there, poring over its 
secret characters, he scarcely looked like the same man 
on whom Polly Hamilton had fixed all her hopes of 
future happiness. The whole expression of his face 
was changed. The bright and debonair look that char- 
acterized him in society was gone, and all his latent 
capabilities for evil came to the surface. But the pre- 
dominant expression was an eager, greedy, hungry love 
for gold ; and as he studied the mysterious characters 
on the parchment, there was but one thought in his 
mind — that he would master its secret and become the 
sole possessor of the wealth of the Mendozas. 


66 


THE SPANISH TREASTIRE. 


That he would find the cipher a difficult one to inter- 
pret he had, of course, expected ; but he soon learned 
that it was more than difficult ; it might even prove 
impossible. Never had he seen such characters. How 
should he begin to interpret them ? Was each charac- 
ter a letter, and, if so, to what mysterious language did 
they belong ? Or was each character a symbol, and, if 
so, what did the symbol indicate ? Hour after hour he 
spent over the parchment, turning it hither and thither 
in every direction and looking at it from every point of 
view. There were twelve characters ; that was the first 
discovery. Why twelve ? There were twelve signs of 
the zodiac, twelve months in the year, twelve tribes in 
Israel, twelve apostles. What was the mystic significa- 
tion of twelve.? Had it any? He began copying the 
characters, tracing them one by one, with laborious mi- 
nuteness. They were certainly not letters ; they were — 
yes, surely, they were fragments of a picture ! He took 
several pieces of paper and traced each one of the char- 
acters, separately, on a piece of the paper, and then laid 
them side by side, to catch the effect ; but this told him 
nothing. 

“ If I had a pair of scissors !" he thought, gazing help- 
lessly about the room. “ Ah ! How welcome would 
be the sight of a woman’s work-basket at this moment ! 
Is there nothing I can manage with ?” 

He rose from the table and began walking aimlessly 
about, till, catching sight of his dressing-case in the inner 
room, he went toward it with an ejaculation of triumph. 

“ My nail-scissors ! What was I thinking of, not to 
remember them ?” And snatching up that implement 
of his toilet, Mr. Stanley again sat down to the solution 
of his cryptograph. With great care, he cut out from 
the pieces of paper each carefully traced character, and 
then he endeavored to fit them together. Again and 


KNOWLEDGE IS TOWER.” 67 

again he tried and failed. The mysterious scraps of 
what seemed to be a picture of something had no mean- 
ing by themselves, still less had they any when he laid 
them side by side, above, below — nothing. With a 
groan, he leaned back in his chair and looked up at the 
ceiling. Then he gathered up the scraps of paper in 
his hands, and looked vindictively toward the grate, in 
which, as the afternoon had been chilly, still burned a 
bright fire. He was on the point of crushing the papers 
in his hand to throw them into the grate, when a sharp 
knock sounded on his door. Clarence Stanley started 
slightly, and opening the drawer of his table, swept 
into it the fragments of paper he had so carefully cut 
out, and on top of that the piece of parchment with its 
well kept secret. Quickly locking the drawer, he turned 
impatiently to the door, on which now sounded a 
second and louder knock. 

“ Come in !” he cried : and as the handle was turned, 
ineffectually, he hastened toward the door, unlocked it 
and flung it open. 

“ I had forgotten the door was locked,” he said, with 
a sort of insolent impatience toward everything outside 
of it, and then, in a sharp tone to the servant who stood 
waiting, “ well, what do you want ?” 

“ Some one — a — a gentleman to see you, sir,” an- 
swered the man in a hesitating way, as he tendered a 
card, which Stanley took ; and, without looking at it, he 
said : 

‘‘ Oh, all right ; show him up.” 

As he glanced out after the servant, Stanley observed 
that the hall lights were already burning, and he reab 
ized that he must have been engaged for hours in the 
effort to read the mysterious cipher, without even 
suspecting the approaching dusk. He poked his fire 
viciously, so that it sent out a myriad of bright sparks ; 


68 


THE SPANISH TREASUKE. 


and then having lighted several gas-burners, he glanced 
at the card he still held in his hand, and exclaimed : 

“ Why — who — the deuce !” 

The name on the card was : 


Prof. Henri Van Tassel. 


And before Stanley had recovered from his amazement, 
the owner of the name stood, bowing, in the doorway. 

“ Oh, come in !” exclaimed Stanley, testily. “ If 
I had read your name first, I don’t think I should have 
had you come up, but since you, are here, perhaps you 
can be useful. Shut the door, and lock it, too ; I don’t 
want to be disturbed.’* 

The person to whom these curt words had been 
addressed obeyed the concluding direction with the air 
of a slave who acknowledges a master ; and, coming 
forward, he dropped into a chair to which Stanley 
pointed with insolent indifference. 

Professor Van Tassel was a small, dark, slender man 
of an uncertain age that, according to circumstances 
and the hour of the day, might have been variously 
guessed at anywhere from thirty to fift)^’ years. Just 
now he looked about forty ; pale, with sunken cheeks, 
longish, straight hair, gaunt and hungry, with large, 
wild eyes and an inexpressible appearance of loss. No 
one that ever looked at him and was capable of putting 
into thought the effect produced by his appearance 
could have failed to be conscious of this curious sense 
of loss which he carried about with him like an atmos- 
phere ; to some it was pitiful, to others ridiculous, and 
to others still, and by far the greater number, it was 
perfectly inexplicable. To Stanley, who understood it 


69 


“ KNOWLEDGE IS POWER.” 

perhaps even better than the victim himself, it brought 
a sudden feeling of triumph, as he thought of many 
ways in which he could make this wretched being 
useful. 

“ Well, old fellow, how did you find me out ?” he 
asked, in a jocular tone. 

“By what you call ‘accident,’ Carlos — what I call ‘a 
leading.’ I was led to lounge about the hotel-door — 
though I knew not for what — till I saw you come along 
the street and enter this house. By asking a question 
here and there and spending my last few dimes among 
the waiters, I learned that you had been staying here 
for some time, that you had returned a day or two since 
from Chicago, and that you were still paying court to 
the pretty San Franciscan girl whose father will make 
his son-in-law as well as his daughter a millionaire.” 

“ Right you are, my boy ; but as you know of old, 
Harry, I am not a marrying man, and an insuperable 
objection exists to my getting hold of a million in that 
way. Still, I had about made up my mind to take the 
plunge. And since there seemed no way of getting old 
Hamilton’s money without his daughter also, I had 
determined to marry pretty Polly, when, lo and behold, 
a fabulous fortune, that is mine by right, has almost 
dropped into my hands ! I am on the track of the hid- 
den treasures of the Mendoza family ; and as I and one 
other are, so far as I know, the only living descendants 
of the man who concealed these treasures, and, con- 
sequently, their only legitimate heirs, there is a reason- 
able hope that I may be able to get along without Miss 
Polly if I choose. Now, listen, Harry, and give me the 
use of all the mind you’ve got. Is their really such a 
thing as clairvoyance, or is it all stuff and nonsense that 
you professors talk on that subject — a clever trick to 
^ill a stupid public ?” 


70 


THE SPANISH TEE AS (IRE. 


“ Such a thing as clairvoyance !” exclaimed Van Tas- 
sel. His sunken eyes gleamed, and a flush lit up his 
gaunt face with momentary fire. “ Ask me if such a 
thing as light exists, if electricity is real, if sound travels 
through vibrations of the air. Every small schoolboy 
knows these things now, and can tell you about them 
better, perhaps, than I can. But I know that clairvoy- 
ance is as real as any of these things ; and no one but 
fools and conceited prigs, who know so much they will 
never truly know anything, think of questioning the 
fact of genuine clairvoyance.” 

Stanley laughed provokingly. He had expected some 
such outburst and was amused by it. 

“ All right, Harry,” he said. “ I am only asking for 
information. I don’t want to dispute your facts. I 
don't know much about these things. The truth is, 
they bother me ; and when I try to understand them 
they make my head ache. But it makes a lot of differ- 
ence to me just now to know if they are genuine or 
humbug.” 

“ Of course, there are oceans of humbug mixed up 
with the real thing,” said Van Tassel, eagerly, “ but the 
great men of science all over the world, nowadays, are 
investigating these wonderful truths, and, before the 
end of the century, we shall understand the mystery of 
the various degrees of the secondary consciousness and 
of the sub-liminal self — ” 

Stop ! Stop !” exclaimed Stanley, with a gesture of 
comic despair. “ I don’t want to hear a lecture on 
psychology. My dear fellow, you should hire a hall. 
Haven’t I told you I can’t understand these things ? 
They make my head spin. I see you are in earnest. 
I always knew you were. And what I want to learn of 
you is the modus o^erandl—ho^f to work this clairvoyant 


“ KNOWLEDGE IS POWER.” 71 

and mesmeric racket when you happen to have the 
necessary magnetism to produce it.” 

‘‘That’s easy enough,” Van Tassel said, with a long 
sigh, as his momentary enthusiasm left him and he 
dropped again into the submissive, dejected manner 
that had become his ordinary condition. “ The opera- 
tor must possess certain mental conditions as well as a 
peculiar physical temperament, great concentration of 
will — stronger than that possessed by the subject, and 
the peculiar magnetism which you have more strongly 
developed than I have ever known in the case of any 
other person. That being given, the process is purely 
mechanical, and consists simply of a certain number of 
slow, even passes made by the hands over the person to 
be mesmerized — downward passes to induce the trance, 
upward to dispel it. You know the passes well 
enough.” 

“ Yes ; and glad enough I was to remember them a 
couple of evenings ago. And that’s what I want your 
advice about.” And briefly but clearly Stanley related 
the singular effect of his presence upon Dolores Men- 
doza when first introduced to her. 

Professor Van Tassel sat up, alert and interested ; so 
much so, that for a moment the dazed, lost look left his 
face and once more he seemed to have a distinct indi- 
viduality. 

“ What you tell me is extremely interesting. From 
your description of the young lady, I should guess that 
she possesses the gift of clairvoyance in its highest and 
rarest form, and if her power should ever be developed 
she might be of great benefit to the world.” 

“ I’m not troubling myself about that,” Stanley inter- 
rupted flippantly. “ I only want her power exercised 
for my particular benefit— and hers, too, perhaps. I’ve 


72 


THE SPANISH TEEASURE. 


no particular objection to making it a partnership 
aifair/’ 

“ She said that she had a visitor ?” asked Van Tassel, 
musingly. 

“ Yes ; but she didn’t seem to remember what it had 
been when she returned to consciousness, although it 
had evidently been unpleasant.” 

“ And can you guess at the nature of it ?” asked the 
professor of mesmerism, with a pecular look ; to which 
Stanley responded defiantly : 

“ Yes ; and it is in order to learn how to gain control 
of this mysterious gift apparently possessed by this girl 
that I am now talking with you, Harry. Between you 
and me there need be no disguises and no mystifications. 
I have always treated you, personally, with kindness 
and even with generosity, and in the manner of which 
we both know, and to which you refer, no one knows 
better than you do that I acted in self-defense. It was 
his life or mine. As to all that has happened since, 
and the use I have made of various advantageous cir- 
cumstances, I have never been able to see anything 
particularly criminal in any part of it. But it is my secret 
and I choose to have it remain so ; at the same time, I 
choose to make use of this girl’s extraordinary power, 
though I may be able to get on without it. I am 
coming to that presently. The awkward thing about 
her is that if I am able to throw her into the clairvoy- 
ant trance at will, she may say a great deal more than I 
care to hear besides giving me the information I want ; 
and she may also remember things that I prefer to 
have forgotten.” 

“ You have only to forbid that,” said Van Tassel. 

“ What do 5’’ou mean ? Will she obey me ?” 

“ Certainly,” was the answer, with a smile. “ That 
is the simplest form of hypnotic suggestion. Before 


KNOWLEDGE IS POWER. 


u 


?7 


Y3 


you awaken her from the trance, bid her forget every- 
thing you don’t wish to have her remember. You may 
also suggest such ideas as you desire to remain in her 
mind.” 

“ The deuce ! That makes the whole affair as easy 
as a walk-over.” 

“ Always provided you are able to put her into the 
trance. A clairvoyant such as she appears to be is often 
very difficult to manage. The trance you saw may have 
been quite independent of any mesmeric power that you 
possess, although yowx presence may have affected her ; 
and if so, she is liable at any time to pass into what we 
call the superior condition, in which case she might read 
the whole past history of any one present, and you could 
not even silence her. It is very desirable, for your own 
sake, that you should gain all the power over her that 
your strong temperament and will give you the oppor- 
tunity to do.” 

While he listened, Clarence Stanley’s countenance 
went through various changes of expression, from ani- 
mated, bouyant triumph to perplexity, impatience and 
anger. 

“ Oh, confound it !” he then exclaimed, as his compan- 
ion came to the end of his remarks. “ I don’t under- 
stand half you are saying, and I don’t believe the other 
half ; but if you are speaking the truth, the sefiorita’s 
clairvoyant gift is likely to bring me much more trouble 
than benefit — ” 

“ Not if you can gain control of it,” interrupted Van 
Tassel, eagerly. “ Can’t you give me a chance to see 
her ? I have studied this subject deeply ; it is the one 
thing in the world that still has power to interest me ; 
and I think I can detect the quality of any form of clair- 
voyance by the psychic atmosphere surrounding the sub- 


74 THE SPANISH TREASUKE. 

ject. Give me a chance to see this young lady and judge 
of her power.” 

“You may see her fast enough,” said Stanley, 
promptly. “Before we part, I will give you money 
enough to get yourself up respectably ; but remember, 
there must be no backsliding and making yourself a dis- 
grace to me if I introduce you to the Hamilton family. 
How is it with you now ? Whisky or brandy or both ?” 

“ Neither. Drink has been worn out with me long 
ago ; nothing supplies the riecessary stimulus but 
opium. I have almost wholly lost my will-power, and 
with it, of course, my power to mesmerize. I abused 
the gift, and it has left me. I only live, now, under the 
influence of opium.” 

“ Poor devil !” exclaimed Stanley, in a tone of pity- 
ing contempt. “ By the way, you used to be great on 
reading ciphers and all manner of hieroglyphics. It 
was, as you would say, a gift. Have you lost that, 
too ?” 

While speaking, Stanley had unlocked the drawer of 
the table beside him, and now taking out the piece of 
parchment and all the papers on which he had been 
figuring and drawing, he spread them out before Pro- 
fessor Van Tassel. 

“ There, Hal, old boy ! Cast your eye over that, and 
tell me if you have still the power to read the secret 
of it.” 

Again a gleam of interest and sudden fire lit up the 
haggard face of the demoralized mesmerizer, and he 
bent an eager gaze on the papers placed before him. 

“ I don’t know if I can unlock the mystery here,” he 
said. “ The gift you speak of was a part of my other 
gift, and may have gone from me with the rest. But I 
will try. I will try.” 

With trembling fingers, he began sorting and arrang- 


KNOWLEDGE IS POWER.” Y5 

ing the scraps which Stanley had so carefully cut out, 
and his touch seemed to have a strange magic in it, for 
the pieces appeared to dovetail and fit into each other 
as if suddenly endowed with independent volition, and 
from the completed picture emerged the figure of a tall 
and slender Indian womau, in flowing drapery, but in 
her lineaments, though fine and delicate, and in her long 
hair, ornamented with feathers and beads, the unmis- 
takable traces of her race. 

“ By Jove !” exclaimed Stanley, with unusual excite- 
ment. “ The Indian princess — our aboriginal ancestress. 
This is interesting.” 

“ There are letters — of the English alphabet, appar- 
ently — there are twelve of them, and twelve pieces 
to make up the picture.” 

“ Yes, I counted the pieces and tried to make out the 
meaning of them, but I hadn’t got at it. Your arrival 
interrupted me in the midst of it. But I detected 
no letters.” 

“ They are plain enough, however — wrought in with 
these fine lines th'ht form the picture. See !” 

As he spoke. Van Tassel traced with the point of 
a pencil the outline of the letter F ” in the lines form- 
ing the face of the picture. 

“ Yes, I see it now !” exclaimed Stanley, with a 
momentary feeling of chagrin at not having discovered 
it himself. “ Go on with the rest. I will write them 
down as you trace them.” 

Van Tassel continued, slowly and carefully and with 
many failures, but with continuous perseverance, to 
hunt out the hidden letters. When the twelve had 
been thus discovered and written in order, they spelled 
the following words : 

“ Flower of gold.” 

‘ Flower of gold ?’ ” repeated Stanley, completely 


76 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


mystified. “ It is an interesting phrase, but what does 
it mean ?” 

Van Tassel put his hand to his head in a dazed 
maimer, and then leaned back in his chair and drew a 
long breath of disappointment. It was, indeed, a sigh 
of heartbreaking disappointment. 

“Alas !” he said, bitterly, “ I cannot tell you what it 
means ; and yet it is all here — here !" and he clasped 
his trembling hands about his brow, “ but so confused 
and lost I cannot find it.” 

“ You know and cannot tell me exclaimed Stanley, 
his tone quiet with concentrated and impotent rage. He 
saw that the man was perfectly sincere, although he 
could not understand his condition of mental wreck ; 
he felt a brutal disposition to shake the remaining life 
out of the helpless specimen of humanity before him ; 
and then in a moment he was calmed by a new thought 
that had not till then entered his mind. Perhaps it was 
fortunate that the professor could go no further : it 
would only be giving another the secret that belonged to 
himself exclusively ; and it was vyth almost ludicrous 
amiability that he continued : “ Never mind, old fel- 

low ; don’t bother your poor old head about it ! Per- 
haps I will work it out some day, myself ; and, if not, 
there is always the wonderful Sefiorita Dolores Men- 
doza. Now, if she is the extraordinary clairvoyant you 
suppose her to be, she could read off this infernal 
puzzle like print.” 

“ Yes ; if I could get my impressions into form I 
could do it myself,” said Van Tassel, fixing his gaze on 
the parchment with an expression of longing eagerness 
and utter hopelessness, that even touched the callous 
heart of Clarence Stanley. “ It is all there. I feel it ! 
I know it ! But I cannot tell what it is ! but — ” and he 
seemed for a moment to rouse into the brightness and 


A DANGEROUS GIFT. 


77 


J energy that had once characterized him — “ you must 
gain control of the sefiorita. Your will is stronger than 
,t that of most men — you can surely control a woman — 
j remember, you must control her^ she must 7iever control 
you !" 

I I guess that’s all right,” said Stanley, quietly, and 

I there was a dangerous look of evil, concentrated power 

{ in his face as he spoke. “ And now give me a little 

( further instruction about these mesmeric passes.” 

Van Tassel explained minutely ; and Stanley, 
absorbed in the idea of using the knowledge he was 
I now acquiring on the susceptible temperament of Dol- 
J ores Mendoza, stood before the professor, his entire will 
apparently concentrated in his magnetic gaze, and 
slowly performed the long, slow, downward passes 
exactly as he had been directed to do, till, on a sudden, 
' Van Tassel’s head fell backward against his chair, and 
Stanley saw that his eyes were closed as if in death, his 
face colorless and his breathing so faint as to be almost 
imperceptible. 

The professor lay in a profound mesmeric trance. 


i CHAPTER X. 

A DANGEROUS GIFT. 

■ Stanley’s amazement was comic. Notwithstanding 

I his recent experience with Dolores and the fact that he 

I was practicing what he called “ the modus operandi ” of 

I mesmerism, he had not thought of the possibility of 

I throwing Van Tassel into a trance ; but, after his first 

|> momentary surprise, he was quick to see that the chance 

I which had befallen him mi 2 :ht be made to prove a very 


78 


THE SPANISH TKEASTJRE. 


lucky one. Although he was profoundly ignorant on 
the subject of psychology in all its phases, he had, as he 
would have said, “ picked up something of the jargon,” 
and this he now proceeded to make use of. 

He brought a couple of pillows from a sofa ; and, 
having placed them under the professor’s head, in order, 
as he told himself, that “ poor old Van sha’n't get a crick 
in his neck,” he drew a chair in front of him, sat down 
so that he could keep his gaze on the worn, pale, uncon- 
scious face, and began to catechise him in a low, incisive 
tone : 

Are you asleep ?” he asked. 

To this there was, at first, no reply, Stanley saw the 
sleeper’s face twitch and lips unclose in the effort to 
speak, but no sound issued from them. He repeated 
the question at intervals of a minute, and when this had 
been done several times Van Tassel’s voice was sud- 
denly heard, clear and distinct, but sounding as though 
it came from a distance. The effect was weird and 
startling, as if speech had suddenly proceeded from a 
galvanized corpse, and the words were calculated to 
increase this effect. 

“ I am outwardly asleep, but my spirit is fully awake 
and willing to help you.” 

Stanley’s heart bounded with triumph. He felt that 
his experiment was becoming very interesting. 

“ Can you read this parchment ?” he asked, indicating 
the mysterious cipher. 

“ All that is written or traced on that side we have 
already made out ; the key to it will be found in the 
manuscript now in the possession of the Sefiorita Men- 
doza.” 

“ What manuscript ?” exclaimed Stanley, for he could 
not remember having spoken to Van Tassel on that 
subject. “ I have said nothing about a manuscript.” 


A DANGEROUS GIFT. 


79 


“ No ; but you are thinking of it at this moment, and 
I am now in communication with your mind, so that I 
can read your inmost thoughts.” 

Stanley involuntarily recoiled with such force as to 
send his chair backward several feet. What man, even 
of the most pure and noble mind, would be willing to 
submit his inmost thoughts to another ? The situation 
was particularly startling to the Honorable Clarence 
Stanley. A faint smile passed over the professor’s face, 
and his next words had a touch of satire to the ear of 
his listener. 

“ Don’t be alarmed,” Van Tassel continued ; “ I shall 
know nothing of all this when I return to ordinary con- 
sciousness. Go on, get all the information you can ; it 
is not safe to keep me in this condition too long.” 

Stanley drew a breath of relief, and hastened to put 
his ideas into the form of questions. 

“ How can I gain possession of that manuscript ?” 

‘‘To do so will be difficult, perhaps impossible ; but 
you have already spoken to Polly Hamilton about being 
present when the manuscript is read. That is your 
opportunity. You must arrange the details yourself.” 

” Can’t you tell me what the manuscript contains ?” 

“ I can tell you nothing except what is either mirrored 
in your own mind or connected with some object in this 
room. My vision does not travel, it cannot leave the 
atmosphere controlled by your thoughts. I can feel 
that the manuscript is connected with the cipher, 
because both are in 5’our mind.” 

“ And the cipher, then .? Can you tell me no more of 
that ?” 

“ Look on the other side of the parchment.” 

Stanley seized the parchment eagerly, and turned it 
over. 

“ It is blank,” he said, with an accent of bitter disap- 


80 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


pointment ; there is nothing on it at all — not a line — 
not a mark !” 

“ Apparently so, and yet I can see it closely covered 
with fine writing. Hold it for a few moments before 
the fire.” 

Feeling very much as if he was in a dream or had 
passed into a new existence, Clarence Stanley did as he 
had been directed, and to his amazement he saw, under 
the action of the glowing heat sent out by the blazing 
coals, word after word and line after line of fine writing 
come into existence on the hitherto blank side of the 
parchment. 

Of course he understood the mystery in a moment. 
The writing had been done by means of some chemi- 
cally prepared ink, visible only under the action of heat. 
The writing was so fine and close — the piece of parch- 
ment being small — that he was obliged to find a magni- 
fying glass before he could read it. This took some 
time, and when he had tried the glass he found the writ- 
ing already so faded and indistinct that he could with 
difficulty make out a word or two, which only served to 
show him that the language was Spanish, the same 
as headed the mysterious cipher on the other side. 

“ Confound the man who invented this puzzle,” he 
thought. “ But, no ! I won’t say that either ; for if it 
had been a simple one it would not have remained for 
me to discover it.” 

With the magnifying glass in hand, he once more 
took the piece of parchment to the fire, and as the 
writing again appeared, he read it word by word, 
slowly thinking out the English equivalent as each 
line of the Spanish writing was traced before him by 
the action of the fire. Having come to the last word, 
his face flushed with triumph even more than by the 
glow of the coals, he seated himself by the table, and 


A DANGEROUS GIFf. 


81 


I made, first, a copy of the writing in Spanish and, after- 
i ward, an English translation of the same. 

; To do this had been a difficult and tedious task, and 
more than once, as the parchment cooled and the ink 
faded, he had been obliged to leave off, to recover the 
^ writing by the magic of heat ; but at last it was com- 
pleted, and the well-hidden secret, translated into Eng- 
lish, read as follows : 

I “ The spot is twelve paces from a sycamore-tree, out 
I of whose roots grow twelve separate arms (or trunks, 

1 -- perhaps). On the arm (or one of the trunks) is cut the 
rude outline of an Indian woman, the much-wronged 
ancestress of the American Mendozas. There the treas- 
ure was buried on the night of October 12, 1792, by a 
descendant of the Indian princess and her treacherous 
husband. It is believed that her spirit guards the spot. 
; The treasure can only be found by true descendants of 
i the Mendozas. It can only be rightfully possessed by 
J true heirs, male and female, mutually beloved and joined 
together in lawful wedlock. This secret can only be 
read by a Mendoza. To all others this parchment is a 
’ : blank. Every true Mendoza inherits in some form the 
^ birthmark of our Spanish ancestry, and in some degree 
the mystic, spiritual gifts of our Indian ancestry. To 
that heir who discovers this treasure, and whose heart 
is honest and his soul pure, be blessing and honor and 
all happiness in its possession ; but to that heir who 
wrongfully acquires this treasure, and whose heart is 
deceitful and his soul impure, may it bring sorrow and 
' loss and all the train of evils cast abroad by the wrong 
done to the Indian woman from whom we are de- 
, scended.” 

j 

The drawing of a little flower, whose star-like blossom 


82 


THE SPANISH TEEASTJBE. 


seemed to tremble on its slender stem, completed tbe 
hidden message of the parchment, and under it was 
written the word “ Anacaona^' through which was drawn 
an Indian arrow. 

Well,^’ exclaimed Stanley, as he leaned back in his 
chair, “ all the indications point me out as the true 
heir ! I have deciphered the cryptograph ! I have 
discovered the mysteriously hidden message ! I bear 
on my brow the birthmark of the Mendozas, and appar- 
ently I possess some mystic gift, or I couldn’t so readily 
have thrown the learned professor into a trance — 
though of all my claims to be a true descendant of the 
Mendozas, this last one pleases me least ; unless, indeed, 
it proves valuable in giving me control over that beau- 
tiful Spanish girl.” 

This reflection drew his attention again to the still 
unconscious Professor Van Tassel ; but he failed to see 
that the man’s face showed even paler, more worn and 
pinched than it had yet looked, while his eyes were so 
deeply sunken and turned upward under their closed 
lids that they seemed almost lost in the sockets. 

” I have made out the whole story,” said Stanley 
gayly, as he placed his hand on the parchment, from 
which the appearance of the writing had again faded 
quite away, and here I have the whole secret of the 
Mendoza treasure at the tips of my fingers.” 

“I know it. I have followed you through it all,” 
answered Van Tassel. His voice was very faint and 
sounded further away than when he had last spoken, 
but Stanley’s own senses were so sharpened by excite- 
ment, that he failed to notice the change ; “ but are 
you the heir who is likely to obtain happiness in the 
possession of the treasure ?” 

“Am I the heir ?” exclaimed the other, “of course I 
am the heir I What do I care for the curse of that 


A DANGEROUS GIFT. 


83 


dusky princess ? I believe in none of that rubbish ! 
Let me but get these hands of mine on the treasure, 
and the curse may take wings to itself !” 

“ But you will not be the only heir ; in your character 
of the Honorable Clarence Stanley, and making your 
claim through the Countess Windermere, will not your 
elder brother and his family claim an equal share of the 
treasure ?” 

A look of perplexity for a moment came into the face 
of the listener. 

“ I certainly did not consider that,” he said, sharply, 
“but no matter ! In the first place they are not im- 
mortal — both may die ; and, besides, the treasure 
belongs to him who unearths it. I will share it with 
no one except the fair senorita, and she is saintly 
enough to avert all possible evil. Tell me, my wise 
friend, now that you are in what you call the ‘ superior 
condition,’ shall I ever gain the love of Dolores Men- 
doza ?” 

“ She will never love you, but there is some strong 
bond between 3"ou. I cannot tell what it is. She is too 
far away from me and from you. It may be the myste- 
rious tie of blood and inherited tendencies. You may 
gain a power over her, through that you may perplex 
and influence her, but I can see no more — ” 

“ No need to, old fellow ! That’s enough,” inter- 
rupted Stanley. “ Let me gain an influence over any 
woman, and I will take care of the rest. They are but 
weak creatures at the best, and already I noticed a dif 
ference in that girl. She no longer shrank from me 
to-day as she did on the occasion of our first meeting.” 

He spoke merely as if uttering his thoughts aloud, 
and, when Van Tassel had replied, it had been also like 
listening to an echo from his own mind. Suddenly, he 


84 


THE SPANISH TEEASURE. 


became aware of this, and, turning to the nnconscious 
companion beside him, he said imperatively : 

“ Forget all that has been said and all that has been 
thought since you fell into the trance ! And now, 
awake !” 

But the professor did not stir, and as Stanley bent 
forward and looked keenly at him it seemed as if he 
did not even breathe. The Honorable Clarence felt 
uncomfortable, but, retaining perfect self-possession, 
he began to make the upward passes over the pallid 
face with the same calm deliberation with which he had 
induced the trance. 

“ Awake ! Awake !” he said again, in his most 
imperative tone ; but the professor gave no evidence of 
obeying ; on the contrary, the trance seemed deeper 
and more deathlike than before. 

A chill of apprehension caused Mr. Stanley a slight 
shiver, as of cold. 

“ He can’t be dead !” he muttered. “ It would be 
devilish inconvenient, and just as he promised to be of 
use to me !” 

Again he made the upward mesmeric passes and 
again he said, in low, intensely concentrated tones : 

“Awake !” 


CHAPTER XL 

DOLORES IS TROUBLED. 

“ I don’t like that girl,” said Polly Hamilton, in a tone 
of great decision, when she found herself alone with 
Dolores. 

“ Which of them ?” asked her companion, absently, 


DOLOEES IS TEOUBLED. 


85 


while she bestowed a farewell loving glance on the face 
of her mother, before closing the miniature which she 
still held in her hand. 

Not Bertha, of course — no one could help liking 
Bertha ; she’s just as sweet and good as she can be ; we 
have always been the best of friends, and 1 am really 
quite fond of her, in a way. Not as I am of you, Rita. 
I never could love any girl as I love you, dearest ; but 
the other one— Olive Gaye — I think I could positively 
hate that girl !” 

“ How severe you are, Maruja ; but perhaps you are 
justified in feeling so. I hardly looked at Miss Gaye, 
and I had no conversation with her. But she seemed to 
me like a charming girl.” 

Exactly, that is just what people call her ; but 
I don’t think I ever in my life liked the sort of young 
woman that is called ‘ a charming girl.’ And I tell you, 
dear, my instincts about women never deceive me 
— Olive Gaye may be charming, but she is not nice.” 

“ I will remember what you say, Maruja, and I will 
observe if future knowledge of Miss Gaye confirms it.” 

“ But didn’t Mr. Stanley look handsome, Rita ? I 
know you don’t like him, and it terrifies me to think 
that it may be an instinct with you to understand men 
just as it is with me to understand women. But I hope 
you will learn to like him a little, Rita, just for my sake, 
and you must admit that he was very handsome 
to-day.” 

“ I think him the handsomest man I ever saw,” said 
Dolores, with a sigh. Perhaps that is not saying much, 
for I have really seen but few men, or, to be more cor- 
rect, I have looked at few, and I have never seen 
any one like Mr. Stanley.” 

“Oh, you darling !” exclaimed Polly Hamilton. “It 
makes me quite happy to have you say that, but you 


86 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


mustn’t rush to the other extreme now, and fall in love 
with him, for I’m afraid I’m awfully jealous by nature, 
and that would be a terrible complication.” 

A quick crimson flamed into the clear olive cheeks of 
Dolores, and some inexplicable emotion thrilled through 
her to the tips of her fingers. Was it pain or anger or 
sorrow ? It surely could not be pleasure ! And then 
she was conscious of a feeling that certainly seemed 
like fear. She drew herself quickly away from the 
embrace of her friend, and answered, coldly : 

“No, I don’t think I shall fall in love with Mr. 
Stanley.” 

“ Now I have hurt your feelings, Rita ; don’t be over- 
sensitive, dear.” 

But Dolores protested that she was in no degree 
offended or hurt. And the two girls presently separ- 
ated, the former to correct her friend’s exercises in 
Spanish, and the latter to consult one of her assistants 
in the many charitable works in which she spent both 
time and money. 

With a commendable spirit of independence, Dolores 
had, from the first, declared that she must be permitted 
to make herself useful ; and Mrs. Hamilton, seeing that 
it would greatly contribute to her happiness and self- 
respect to feel a certain independence, engaged the 
young girl, at a fixed salary, as companion and teacher 
of Spanish to her daughter. 

“ Besides which, you are always to be one of us — like 
our own child, Dolores, for we owe you more than life, 
in knowing that you risked your own life to save 
Mary.” 

The gratitude of the Hamilton family and their affec- 
tion for her was so genuine that Dolores speedily felt 
herself as entirely at home, as if .she had been with them 
all her life ; and from the hour when she had first seen 


DOLORES IS TROUBLED. 


87 


Polly Hamilton until the present moment there had not 
been the slightest jar between the two girls, save in the 
matter of Clarence Stanley. 

Dolores placed Polly’s carefully written exercise 
before her and began reading it, taking up a pen occa- 
sionally to correct a word or a phrase, till at last she 
pushed away the paper, almost impatiently, and mur- 
mured half aloud : 

“ Why am I haunted by that man’s face and by the 
sound of his voice ? He is surely not a pleasant 
memory, and yet I cannot shake off the thought of him. 
Can it be possible there is any truth in these marvels of 
hypnotism with which the whole world seems carried 
away nowadays ? And has that man really obtained 
some uncanny power — as dear mamma would say — over 
me ? Nonsense ! I won’t allow myself to think of 
such a thing ; it would affect my imagination, and I 
am just fanciful enough to brood over it, if I once allow 
myself to dwell on the thought.” 

She turned resolutely again to the examination of 
Polly’s Spanish exercises, and by an effort concentrated 
her mind upon the task before her, to the exclusion of 
all else for the time. 

But no sooner were the exercises corrected and neatly 
folded away in one of the pigeon-holes of her writing- 
desk than she found herself again thinking of Stanley, 
while his handsome face came before her so vividly that 
it seemed painted on the air. 

“ No wonder dear Polly thinks him handsome !” she 
thought. Handsome ! How plainly I seem to see 
him ! If one could imagine Saint John and Judas con- 
bined in one man, he might have a face like Clarence 
Stanley’s, and dear Polly never sees the Judas look at 
all. To her he is Saint John all the time. Oh, it is no 
wonder that she is in love with him ! But why does 


88 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


his face haunt me ? Surely, surely, I am not in love 
with him, or am I going mad 

She started up and paced the room to and fro for 
some minutes in a state of great nervous excitement. 
Then hastily putting on a hat and wrap, she determined 
to go out and walk off the unusual .state of feeling that 
had so upset her. As she stood for a moment before 
the mirror, pinning her hat down over the mass of 
bronze -gold hair, Dolores was vaguely conscious of the 
change in her own appearance and of her great and 
unusual beauty. She was at the age when beauty 
comes suddenly, like the opening of a flower that has 
been all ready to bloom, but whose homely outside of 
colorless leaves has given no indication, except to the 
skilled florist, of the glowing loveliness concealed 
within. Becoming raiment exquisitely fitted to a per- 
fect form, good and sufficient food, ease, comfort, rest- 
ful sleep, combined with companionship of her own age 
and a depth of love and appreciation equal in its way to 
that which she had enjoyed in her own mother’s affec- 
tion, had wrought for Dolores what seemed to her 
almost a miracle. She felt a sudden and quite unusual 
joy in life — an ecstatic triumph in the sense of her own 
beauty ; and Polly Hamilton’s exclamation when they 
came face to face with each other in the corridor was 
only the echo of Dolores’s own thought. 

“ Oh, Rita, what have you been doing to yourself ? 
Of course, you were always lovely ; but you have sud- 
denly become a raving beauty !” 

Dolores laughed lightly ; and even her laugh was 
changed, Polly thought, but perfectly charming, too, 
like everything about her. Until now, Dolores had sel- 
dom laughed at all, and when she did, it was a low, 
gentle sound, full of love and sweetness, like the ripple 
of running water ; but there was a decided ring of 


DOLORES IS TROUBLED. 


89 


enjoyment to it now, light and musical, but also a trifle 
superficial, as she replied to her companion’s words : 

“ Oh, it is nothing, Maruja, except that I am a girl 
like other girls of my age, I suppose, and I have just 
found it out. Youth will assert itself, I suppose. And 
I have been old— oh, so old, sometimes, I hardly knew 
that I could feel young and lightsome like other girls. 
The knowledge of it has come to me all in a moment, 
and I suppose it has gone to my head, I feel so strangely 
excited.” 

“ It is mightily becoming to you !” said Polly, with 
delighted admiration. “ But are you going out ?” 

“ I was going to walk — to be serious and prosaic 
again. I thought a walk might prove an antidote to 
the nervous agitation that I am feeling.” 

“ A drive will be better, and I have just ordered the 
carriage. It is already late in the afternoon, but we 
can remain an hour or more and still be home in time 
for dinner. But it would be too late for you to be out 
walking alone.” 

Dolores smiled at these words, remembering how she 
had been accustomed to be out alone at all hours and 
in the worst localities of the great city ; but she made 
no other reply, and the two girls were presently being 
driven through the fashionable avenue and onward into 
the Park. Throughout their drive Dolores continued 
in the same overwrought nervous condition, but Polly 
declared she had never known her so delightfully enter- 
taining. She laughed and jested and talked incessantly, 
and as her young life, although so sad and full of sorrow 
and suffering, had also been full of adventure and a 
thousand unexpected and curious bohemian experi- 
ences, her conversation did not lack for amusing and 
interesting incidentsi 

They returned home just as the lamps and electric 


90 


THE SPAJ^ISH TEEASIJRE. 


lights were being turned on, and as they approached 
their home again, the usual vivacity that had charac- 
terized Dolores gradually disappeared, and the reaction 
to the mood of dreamy abstraction which Mary Hamil- 
ton had often observed in her before was very marked. 
But this lively and light-hearted girl had often deep 
thoughts ; and now, instead of commenting upon this 
change of manner, she said to herself : 

“ On the whole, I don’t know but I ought to be very 
grateful that Rita doesn’t feel any enthusiastic admira- 
tion for Clarence. Darling Lorita ! She would be a 
very dangerous rival !” 

The change to pensiveness and absent-mindedness on 
the part of Dolores continued all through dinner-time, 
and Mr. Hamilton, who admired the strange young 
Spanish girl and shared with his wife and Mary a feel- 
ing of profound gratitude toward her, but to whom she 
was a greater mystery than womankind generally, ral- 
lied her playfully in regard to her apparent unconscious- 
ness of the world about her. 

Dolores responded with her customary sweetness, 
but the effort she made to seem interested and to bring 
her thoughts back to earth again was so evident to 
Polly that she immediately took possession of her when 
they left the table. 

“ How was my exercise, Mistress Governess ?” she 
asked, laughingly. “ Do I improve in my Spanish ?” 

“ Oh, yes, indeed ; there were not more than six 
mistakes,” said Dolores. 

“ Six ! Oh, I am doing splendidly ! There used to 
be about sixteen to the page. Come and show me and 
explain the corrections.” And when they were alone 
together Mary said : 

Never mind the exercise just now, dear. I saw that 


DOLORES IS TROUBLED. 


01 


papa’s teasing was too much for you. I’m afraid our 
drive has tired you.” 

“ I am afraid I am more than tired, Maruja,” said 
Dolores, gravely. “ I am under some strange influence ; 
I have felt it more or less since I first met Mr. Stanley.” 

Mary started and almost gasped with surprise, but 
she resisted the inclination to speak. Dolores con- 
tinued : 

“ I don’t know what it is or how to describe it ; but, 
perhaps there is some truth in these stories of hypnotism 
and the mysterious occult influences of mind upon 
mind. When you understand that I have, perhaps, 
inherited a peculiar organization from my strangely 
mixed ancestry, you will not wonder so much that I am 
a little strange and unlike other girls. I am going to 
read that manuscript to you now, at any time you 
please. You yourself shall appoint the time.” 

“ Oh, thank you, dearest Rita ! And Clarence, too — 
you will let him be present ?” 

“ Oh, yes ; if Mr. Stanley is really related to me, it is 
his right to some extent. It may be of value to him to 
know that we inherit a strain of evil, that it requires all 
our possibilities of good to oppose.” 

“ How seriously you take it all, Lorita ! Why, it is 
nothing but a legend,” said Mary, but feeling somewhat 
awed in spite of herself at the grave, almost prophetic 
manner of her friend. 

“ Life is serious, Maruja, though I hope you will never 
know how terribly serious it may be at times. Yours 
should be all sunshine. It seems as if intended for noth- 
ing but joy. But mine has been full of mystery, and now 
it seems more so than ever. I feel at this moment as if 
some appalling fate overshadowed me— as if I were 
mysteriously linked to some great unknown wrong, of 


92 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


which I am as innocent as I am ignorant — and now I 
feel that some one near to me is in great danger — danger 
from which I ought to help him. Ah, be strong, resist, 
awake ! Awake !” 

Mary Hamilton felt a chill of terror take possession 
of her, as she beheld Dolores become more and more 
excited till, with the last words, she stretched out her 
hands imploringly, her face pale but strangely exalted 
in expression, while her beautiful eyes, gazing into space, 
glowed like fiery jewels and were luminous as if from 
some inner light Slowly the rapt look passed from her 
face, a faint rose-color came into her cheeks, and she 
murmured : 

“ He is safe — she never fails me — and now I have seen 
her face !” 

A slight shiver passed over her and, with a long sigh, 
she turned and met Polly Hamilton’s anxious, awe- 
struck, half-terrified gaze. 

“ Oh, Maruja, have I frightened you ? I am so sorry.” 

“ Frightened me !” gasped Polly, “ I should say so ! 
You have about scared the wits out of me ; but I have 
a gleam of sense left. I am going this instant to send 
for Doctor Mac. I know you are going to have some 
awful illness — a brain-fever or something — ” 

“ Not at all,” said Dolores. “ See, take my hand — 
feel my pulse — I am perfectly calm. All the recent 
excitement has left me, and I feel well and happy.” 

And, indeed, Mary Hamilton could not but see that a 
very tranquilizing change had passed over her friend, 
and, so far as her physical condition could show, she 
seemed to be entirely well. 

“You are a wonderful creature,” she said in a per- 
plexed tone, “ and I shall never understand you at all ; 
but, of course, that makes you far more interesting. 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


93 


like reading- a story in an indefinite number of volumes. 
Well, then, I won’t send for Doctor Mac this time. Let 
us look over my Spanish exercise.” 


CHAPTER XII. 

AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 

Clarence Stanley stood helplessly gazing at the un- 
conscious Professor Henri Van Tassel. He had tried 
his most imperious tones and had quite exhausted 
his knowledge of mesmeric passes, but the professor's 
eyes continued closed, and the heavy lids seemed glued 
together. 

Stanley had grown quite pale, and a sense of his un- 
pleasant predicament was beginning to make him very 
uncomfortable, 

“ He isn’t shamming !” he muttered. “ Can he be 
really dead ? Perhaps I had better send for a doctor. 
It’s going to be deuced unpleasant — coroner’s inquest, 
reporters, morning papers and all the rest of it.” 

He bent over Van Tassel and raised the lid of one 
eye, then of the other, and in doing this his fingers un- 
consciously pressed upon the eyeballs. A slight quiver 
passed over the ashen face, the lips parted and the 
breath came through them in a faint, long-drawn 
sigh. 

“ Halloa ! He’s coming to !” said Stanley. And he 
recommenced the upward passes with his fine, long 
white hands, rapidly now, so that it seemed as it wings 
were waving over the professor’s face. And, with a 
supreme effort of will, he said once more : 


94 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


“ Awake !” 

The closed eyelids opened like a flash of light, so 
quick, so bright was the returning intelligence that 
flashed from them, and, raising his head from the pil- 
low against which it had been resting. Van Tassel sat 
upright with an alert and eager manner, such as seldom 
characterized him in the degenerate condition to which 
he had fallen. 

“ I have seen her !” he said. “ What a beautiful face ! 
She is a wonder — a true clairvoyant of the highest type. 
Beware how )’ou trifle with her, Carlos, for hers is a 
greater power than you or I can ever hope for in this 
lower world. Her pure spirit soars to higher realms 
than we can even dream of.” 

“What the mischief are you talking about ?” inter- 
rupted Stanley, impatiently. “You are still asleep, I 
think. Whom have you seen ?” 

“ The lady you call ‘cousin,’ the Seflorita Mendoza, 
for a moment only ; but for her you could never have 
recalled me from the trance. I warned you that it 
was dangerous, but through your constant thought of 
her 1 was able to implore her aid. Oh, Carlos, you have 
gained a great power over me ; but promise me — I 
implore you by all we have known of each other in the 
past — promise me to use this power for good.” 

“ Certainly,” returned Stanley, flippantly. “ I use all 
things for good — my own good. But look here, Van, 
quit calling me Carlos ; you’ve said it several times 
already, and you’ll get in the habit of it. You know as 
well as I do that my name is Clarence Stanley.” 

“ Yes,” returned the listener, abjectly, “ the Honora- 
ble Clarence Stanley. 1 shall not forget.” 

“ And now we had better part. This stance has lasted 
long enough for one evening. It is getting late, and I 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


95 


am hungry. Here is money ; help yourself, and come 
to me for more when you need it.” 

He unlocked a drawer in an escritoire in another part 
of the room, and the eyes of the wretched professor 
sparkled with delight at sight of the gold and rolls of 
bank-notes contained in it ; but he made no movement 
to help himself as he had been invited to do. Stanley, 
who, with an almost insane passion for gold, was lavish 
in his expenditure of it, grasped a full hand of the coins 
and notes and gave them to Van Tassel. 

“ There, old fellow,” he said, with careless good- 
nature, “ ‘ get yourself in flesh,' as the chap in the 
play says, and also get yourself some decent clothes, to 
pass for a gentleman against the next time you come to 
see me. And, now, good-bye. It is long past dinner- 
time, and I am hungry myself.” 

Van Tassel took the money eagerly and crushed it 
into his pockets. His manner was more than ever that 
of a slave obeying a master ; and yet there was an 
unusual look of life and eagerness about him, as if he 
had unconsciously imbibed something of the energy of 
the man who dominated him. 

“ Clarence,” he said, I was never mesmerized before 
to-night. When I possessed the power, no one I ever 
knew could overcome it, but I always felt that you 
could have the power if you chose. I am not sorry ; it 
has done me good ; only, for pity’s sake, dear boy, 
don’t abuse it. Use your power for good.” 

“ All right ; haven’t I already told you that I always 
do ; and, now, good-bye ! You really must go,” and as 
the door closed after the professor, the Hon. Clarence 
stretched his arms above his head, yawned copiously 
and dropped into a chair. 

“This hynotizing business is exhausting work,” he 
said ; “ if this is how Van used to feel, I can understand 


96 


THE SPANISH TEEASHRE. 


his need of a stimulant. Poor old Van ! He’s just 
about crazy on the subject, and what an awful bore if 
one didn’t choke him off from time to time. But it 
has been a good day. The Mendoza treasure secret 
unearthed and several valuable hints as to how I may be 
able to gain some occult power over that Spanish girl. 
What a fine creature she is — a new type of woman 
altogether ; but I must be careful how I let myself get 
too much interested in her. It needs no Professor Van 
Tassel to point out that danger. I’ve seen other men 
in love, and they are a warning to me. Have I, by 
chance, the capacity within me to be really in love with 
any woman ? I think not. But all the same, Clarence, 
my lad, I shall hold your fancies well in hand when you 
are in the presence of the Sefiorita Dolores Mendoza.” 

Stanley had been hurriedly dressing as he thought 
and occasionally permitted his thoughts to run into 
words ; and now as he paused before the largest mirror 
in his room, to put the finishing touches to his toilet, 
he was hugely pleased with himself, and more than 
conscious of his own physical advantages. Like a 
great many men of his kind, he thought himself rather 
a good fellow than otherwise ; and if a severe judge of 
character had told him plum ply that he possessed all 
the qualifications for a complete scoundrel, and had 
used his natural capacities in that line to great advan- 
tage, he would have been sincerely surprised. As he 
now gazed at the reflection of his own well- featured 
and finely colored countenance, he smiled complacently 
and felt how natural it was that he should always have 
been so great a favorite with women of all conditions 
and ages. It was his face as it now looked with which 
he was familiar, and he would have been almost as 
much surprised as Polly Hamilton could he have seen 
it at times when his mind was bent on acquiring money 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


97 


or at moments when other evil tendencies were entirely 
in the ascendant. 

“Well, I have a good many irons in the fire just 
now,” he thought, “ and between the lot I must certain- 
ly be able to smooth out the various little crumples and 
rumples that beset my career in life. If the Mendoza 
treasure turns out to be a myth, the earldom of Win- 
dermere and a fat rent-roll aren’t such a bad look-out, 
and may yet be mine ; and if all else fails, there is 
always Polly — dear, charming little Polly.” 

And whistling an air from the opera — Polly Hamil- 
ton’s favorite air — Mr. Clarence Stanley at last turned 
from the mirror, glanced about the room to be quite 
sure that all drawers had been carefully locked, and 
with a light step went forth in search of dinner. Hav- 
ing dined, Stanley wandered about aimlessly, dropped 
into one or two theatres, not being sufficiently interested 
to know. what the play had been about when he came 
out ; and at last, being in the neighborhood of his 
hotel, he returned to his room and went to bed. In the 
morning, he found himself somewhat despondent and 
inclined to take himself to task for wasting time on 
anything so chimerical as the Mendoza treasure ; a 
quest which, as he very well knew, had brought only 
loss, despair and death to many a member of his 
family. 

“ Am I,” he questioned, ‘ behaving like a fool thus to 
be hazarding the substance for the shadow ? There is 
pretty Polly Hamilton, with all her father’s millions, 
waiting to drop into my arms, and all that I have to do 
is simply to open them. Wouldn’t it be the part of wis- 
dom and good common sense to go to see Polly ; and, 
well, perhaps, hold out my arms ?” 

And full of these thoughts, which showed an uncom- 
mon degree of vacillation on the part of Clarence Stan- 


08 


TflE SPANISH TREAStJUE. 


ley, he betook himself toward the home of the Hamil- 
tons at an unusually early hour that afternoon. But, 
almost unconsciously to himself, there was in his mind 
the thought that he would see Dolores, and perhaps 
obtain the hearing of that mysterious manuscript, the 
story of which would, he fancied, shed light on much 
that was still obscure to him in the history of his 
own family. And fate itself seemed to declare in his 
favor on this day ; for Polly met him, radiant with 
delight at his arrival, and triumphant in the knowledge 
that Dolores had promised to read the manuscript 
within that very hour if he should come. 

“ She declared you were coming,” said Polly, and I 
believe she’s a witch — a lovely, fascinating witch — for 
everything she says comes to pass. She has gone to her 
room now, to get the papers, because she said she felt 
that you were coming. Now, Clarence, how in the 
world should she have known that, when even I, who 
have known you so well and for so long a time, couldn’t 
be quite sure of it ?” 

“ But you ought to have known, Polly,” said Clarence, 
with a world of meaning in his large, dark .eyes that 
were now gazing deep into the frank and innocent eyes 
of Mary Hamilton, raised to his with a look so childlike 
and confiding, that even his tough conscience felt a 
twinge. 

They were standing together just where she had met 
him as he entered the room and he was still holding 
her hand in a clasp that brought the warm blood in 
a tide of crimson blushes to her face. 

“ I always know when you are near, Polly. Ah, if 
you loved me, dear one — ” 

“Oh, Clarence!” exclaimed Polly, “do I not? When 
have I not loved you ?” 

“ Really, truly, Polly ?” 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


99 


“ Better than my life !” ' ] 

He had not meant to say so much. As he told him- 
self afterward, it had been a mere accident. He cer- 
tainly had not meant to commit himself so irrevocably ; 
but when Polly spoke these words : “ Better than my 

life !” and in speaking them raised her pretty rosy 
mouth toward his, she was so irresistible that Stanley 
bent and kissed her, and was ever afterward rather 
proud of the impulse that made him do so ; for as he 
declared to himself : 

“ A fellow would be a brute not to kiss a pretty girl 
when she so evidently expected it.” 

“ Hush !” said Polly. Then, gently withdrawing from 
the half embrace in which he held her : “ Here comes 

Lorita.” 

And almost with the words Dolores entered. She 
held the roll of manuscript in her hand, and was evi- 
dently ready to begin the reading of it at once ; and 
nodding slightly to Stanley, almost as if she had already 
seen him, she seated herself at a little distance and near 
one of the windows. 

“ We shall not be interrupted,” said Polly. “ That is 
why I received you here in this little boudoir, Clarence. 
You are the only gentleman, except papa, who ever 
enters this room. It is sacred to my girl-friends, and I 
hope you will appreciate the honor. I have given 
orders that no one shall interrupt us, Rita.” 

Dolores answered only by one swift look of thanks, 
and, smoothing out the pages of writing, she glanced 
hurriedly through them. 

“It is here,” she said. “I make no apology for it. 
And I can only guess, the writing being my father’s, 
that he was the compiler as well as the writer. 1 have 
called it ‘ A Legend of the Mendozas.’ 


100 


THE SPANISH TKEASUEE. 


LEGEND OF THE MENDOZAS. 

“ PART FIRST. 

“ A tropic sea so beautiful that nature furnished no 
other blue so deep, so rich, so wonderful with which 
one can compare it. A tropic sky without one cloud as 
far as the eye can see, and in the west the fading tints 
of sunset dying in a soft blending of purple, gold, 
mauve, pink and palest green — a color that, as it slowly 
fades into the night, leaves on the soul a hush like the 
last notes of exquisite music — and through all, the warm, 
sweet breath of the tropics blown from lands of spice 
and laden with the perfume of strange, rare fruits and 
flowers. 

“ Over this tranquil sea were sailing three ships, 
bound for a shore to which it may be no ship had ever 
sailed ; certain it is, no such ships had ever till then 
been seen in these waters, for they came from many 
thousand miles away, and they carried the first links 
of the great chain that was henceforth to bind the old 
world to the new The largest and the chief of these 
vessels was called the Santa Maria, and on its deck now 
stood the man whom Queen Isabella of Spain had 
named ‘ Our Admiral of the Seas, Don Christopher 
Columbus.’ His was a form and face to attract atten- 
tion anywhere and to compel admiration even from 
env}^ and detraction. He was taller by several inches 
than any other man on board, well-formed and muscu- 
lar, and he possessed the elevated and dignified bearing 
that bespeaks a conscience at peace with itself, a heart 
devoted to the world’s good and a mind full of noble, 
lofty, unselfish thoughts. His face was long, somewhat 
thin, and marked with certain lines peculiar to discov- 
erers and inventors. His complexion was fair and 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


101 


inclined to ruddiness, and his skin of the extreme deli- 
cacy that becomes freckled on exposure to the sun. 
His cheek-bones were high and his nose of a fine, but 
pronounced aquiline. His eyes were a clear, pale gray 
that deepened almost to black under the stress of feel- 
ing. When excited, they glowed as if lit by inward 
fire, but in repose, they were softly yet lustrously lumi- 
nous. The whole countenance denoted the tempera- 
ment which belongs to genius : nervous, sensitive, 
thoughtful and highly imaginative. Even at the early 
age of thirty the hair of Columbus had turned gray ; 
but now it was snow-white ; and reaching almost to his 
shoulders, it gave him an air of extreme benevolence as 
well as of patriarchal authority. His dress was simple 
but rich, and his manners, engaging and alfable, were 
the outward expression of that only true breeding, gen- 
tleness and Christian charity. 

“ Of the other two vessels of this fleet, one was called 
the Pinta^ and the other the Nina. They were mere barks 
called caravels, open, but built up high at the prow and 
stern, with forecastles and cabins for the accommoda- 
tion of the crew, the Santa Maria being the only one of 
the three provided with a full deck. The Pinta was 
commanded by Martin Alonzo Pinzon ; and the Nina 
was in command of another of the name, Vicente 
Yanez Pinzon. The crews of these ships, though num- 
bering some few good and honest sailors, were mostly 
worthless men who had been pressed into this service 
by any means that could be found. From the first they 
had been dissatisfied. Superstitious, as are all seamen, 
they regarded every mischance, however slight, as an 
omen of disaster, and when, finally, after leaving the 
Canary Island, they had lost in the deeping distance the 
last faint, gray, cloud like trace of land, it seemed to 


102 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


their doubting and fearing hearts that they had * liter- 
ally taken leave of the world !’ 

“ In vain their brave commander sought to inspire 
them with some reflection of his own intrepid spirit. 
Tears and loud lamentations were their only response. 
From his fertile imagination, Columbus described in 
glowing words the glorious countries to which he would 
lead them ; and so vivid was the picture he painted to 
their fancy and so real to his own believing soul, that, 
at happy moments, they saw the future even as he 
showed it to them. But too soon their brief hopeful- 
ness gave place to fresh fears, and the slighest change 
of the fair and favoring breezes that wafted them 
onward was sufficient to plunge them once more into 
despair. The voyage had already occupied ten weeks, 
and to the impatient and almost mutinous sailors it 
seemed interminable. They were not victualed for 
such a voyage. And what would become of them if 
food should fail ? Even the beauty of the ocean 
alarmed them, for they declared that everything in 
these waters was so strange and unusual that its very 
tranquillity boded evil. 

“ Against these childish fancies Columbus argued 
with patience, but his listeners now scarcely heard his 
words. Their selfish terrors varied and multiplied 
their imaginary dangers faster than he could think of 
arguments to reason them away. 

“ The situation of Columbus was now indeed aprproach 
ing desperation ; but with the heroism of a great mind, 
his spirit constantly rose to meet each new trial to 
which it was subjected. He was aware of the mutinous 
condition of his crew ; he even knew that they had 
determined to throw him overboard and turn the vessel 
homeward unless they saw land within a certain num- 
ber of days. But in the face of all trials^ confronted 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


103 


with a danger that not only menaced his life but 
threatened to destroy the great object of his existence, 
this extraordinary man maintained a serene and steady 
countenance, soothing the more tractable of his men 
with gentle and hopeful words, offering to the ambitious 
the stimulus of future wealth and power and threaten- 
ing the most refractory with signal punishment should 
their murmurs ever take the form of open acts of 
insubordination. 

“ Among the worst and most insidious of these mal- 
contents was a Spaniard named Pedro Raphael Men- 
doza, a man of a strange and curiously mixed nature, 
possessed of sufficient good qualities to make him more 
difficult to deal with than if he had been wholly evil 
and with just enough cleverness to make him danger- 
ous. Mendoza occasionally boasted that some of the 
bluest blood in Spain flowed in his veins, and he bore 
on his left temple, as an heirloom, the family mark of a 
certain branch of the Mendoza family. This mark was 
a mole, small, heart-shaped and as perfect in form as if 
it had been traced by the pencil of an artist, and as 
black as ink.” 

“ What is that ?” exclaimed Clarence. “ Pardon me, 
fair cousin ! Will you read those words again ?” 

Dolores gravely repeated the description of the 
birthmark, and then she resumed her reading of the 
“Legend:” 

“ Mendoza was a handsome man, tall for a Spaniard, 
being almost the height of the admiral, and of a figure 
whose grace and symmetry had captured many a 
female heart. His complexion was pale olive, his eyes 
large, lustrous and of midnight darkness, and his glossy 
hair as black as the Mendoza birthmark, which it 
always carefully concealed except when accidentally 
pushed aside. He had been the most unwilling man in 


104 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


the crew of the Santa Maria on that memorable Friday, 
August 3, 1492, when she sailed out of Saltes. Though 
he had joined the expedition of his own free will, he 
chose now to consider that he had come aboard on com- 
pulsion. The ruling passion of his nature, to which in 
all times and seasons he continued faithful, was avarice. 
Gold was the god that this man worshiped, and it was 
while his fancy was captured by the glowing descrip- 
tions of riches to be gathered in this voyage that he had 
determined to join this expedition in search of a new 
world — a world in the far west, where he might in 
reality pluck apples of pure gold, no longer fabled. 

“ Next to gold Mendoza loved the young wife and 
the pretty child whom he had left in Spain. But he 
had parted easily from Juanita while his thoughts were 
filled with the wealth he was to seize ; and he had 
laughingly kissed her, desiring her to weep on, how- 
ever, till her tears should swell the ocean, as he meant 
to bring back a pearl for every tear. Unable to reach 
his soul with her own sorrow, poor Juanita raised the 
little sleeping Raphael and laid his warm, glowing face 
against his father’s. The child waked at the touch and, 
crowing and laughing with delight, clasped his little 
arms about Mendoza’s neck. 

“‘Thou canst not leave him, Pedro !’ cried Juanita, 
radiant. ‘ Ah, beloved, thou canst not leave us !' 

“ Mendoza tossed the child up in the air, and caught 
and kissed him as he came down. The boy’s bright 
brown hair was tumbled and tossed about, and on the 
left temple showed the birthmark — the very copy of 
his father’s, except that, instead of black, it was a bright 
and glowing red. Pedro detested this mark ; more 
even than on himself he detested this blood-red mark 
upon his child’s brow ; but now he forgot to be angry. 
Even in the exhilaration of his spirits and in the triumph 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


105 


of the future, he rejoiced in it. He kissed the spot of 
glowing color, as he said : 

“ ‘Yes, and rubies I will bring, too — rubies as bright 
as the blood-red heart on my Raphael’s temple, and 
pearls as pure as the tears of Juanita. And now, sweet- 
hearts, I must be gone. The tide waits not on any 
man, and I must go with it. Adios^ adois, until I come 
again !’ 

“ But all this was changed now. Weeks had passed 
since Mendoza had said the last good-bye to the weep- 
ing Juanita, and what he chose to call ‘a madman’s 
voyage into an unknown sea ’ was like to be his only 
reward for wasted time and a long, perhaps an endless 
parting from the only creatures he had ever loved. His 
golden dreams had faded, and he bitterly felt that he 
had thrown away thq substance for the shadow. Juanita 
was neither gold nor pearls nor rubies ; but she was 
real^ and he was suddenly animated with a great long- 
ing once more to possess that which was real, however 
insufficient, instead of the shadowy vapors of glorious 
riches that could never be more than a dream. For 
these and for other reasons, he opposed the further con- 
tinuance of the voyage, and he used all his powers to 
foment dissatisfaction on board the Santa Maria. 

“ ThiS' being the state of affairs in the ship commanded 
by the admiral himself, it may easily be surmised with 
what difficulty the two Pinzons maintained even a show 
of discipline in the two vessels under their charge. 

“ To add to the general despair, the winds suddenly 
blew contrary, then ceased altogether. From this time 
forward, for fourteen days, fate seemed determined to 
try of what stuff was made the soul of Christopher 
Columbus. According to his strangely mistaken idea 
that he was sailing toward the farthest shores of the 
Indies, the ‘ admiral of the ocean seas ’ now supposed 


106 


THE SPANISH TKEASUKE. 


himself to be nearing the island of Cipango [Japan], 
which, with the contiguous islands, he had delineated 
on a chart for the guidance of himself and his men. 

“ After each latest disappointment, the murmuring 
and despondency of the sailors increased, and although 
the signs of land continued and grew more frequent, 
Columbus found it impossible to again raise the spirits 
of his crew. Even Martin Alonso Pinzon, who had 
hitherto been a stanch believer in ultimate success, 
now began to waver in allegiance to the commander of 
the expedition. 

“ Columbus observed this with a momentary feeling 
of dismay. The captain of the Pinta was an important 
person in this small squadron ; and fearing that the 
ships might by chance, or otherwise, get separated, the 
admiral issued orders that they should keep within 
sound of each other’s voices. Pinzon suggested that 
they should stand more to the south, but Columbus 
resolutely maintained a course due west. This further 
increased the feeling of dissatisfaction. 

‘‘ Great flights of birds now appeared ; the color of 
the water varied every few hours to paler blue, then to 
clear gray, occasionally to light green and back again 
to blue ; dolphins were seen in great numbers, and fly- 
ing flsh leaped into the air like flocks of birds, often 
falling on the deck among the sailors. These signs of 
land sometimes diverted the men, and insensibly 
encouraged them ; but the same sullen silence pre- 
vailed ; for Columbus had declared that any man who 
should again give premature notice of the appearance 
of land should thenceforth forfeit all claim to the 
proffered reward. 

“ It was on the evening of October 7 that the admiral 
himself decided to alter his course. He had observed 
flights of field-birds flying to the southwest, and he 


AF ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


lOY 


knew they must be going toward food and a resting- 
place. For three days they sailed west-southwest, and 
the further they went the more encouraging became 
the signs of land. The sailors, however, were not easily 
beguiled into new hope. The sight of birds, small and 
of various colors, such as must have had their homes 
not very far away — even the appearance of tunny-fish, 
a heron, a duck, a pelican, as well as fresh, green herb- 
age floating on the water — all these tokens they chose 
to regard as so many delusions leading them to destruc- 
tion. 

“ In the midst of general despondency, Mendoza 
regained all his old ambition and hope of gain. He 
was a good sailor, and his intelligence far exceeded that 
of the rest of the crew. He understood as well as 
Columbus himself that the indications of land pointed 
to absolute certainty of its early appearance ; and he 
was quick to see that he could make himself of future 
importance and a favorite with the commander, by show- 
ing the utmost confidence in his predictions. He was 
also fired anew by the hope of obtaining the reward. 

** In proportion, therefore, as his fellows clamored 
against the continuance of the voyage, Mendoza showed 
sanguine expectation. They insisted that Columbus 
should turn homeward ; Mendoza hopefully continued 
to look out for land. At length, the mutinous disposi- 
tion of his crew showed itself so openly, that Columbus, 
at the end of his patience, sternly bade them ‘ Cease to 
murmur !’ The expedition, he declared, with that 
authority they never dared defy, had been sent by their 
sovereign and his in search of unknown lands ; and, let 
come what might, the expedition should go forward 
until, by the blessing of God, who had chosen him for 
the purpose, he had accomplished the enterprise. 

^‘This decided and unflinching attitude set Columbus 


108 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


at Open variance with his crew, and, notwithstanding 
his undaunted spirit, there were moments when his soul 
seemed clouded in darkness. At such a time it was 
natural that his heart, by nature gentle, confiding and 
affectionate, should turn with positive gratitude toward 
Pedro Mendoza. He forgave and, indeed, forgot that 
this man had previously used his influence among the 
sailors to foment their discontented and rebellious feel- 
ings. If he remembered this at all, he also remembered 
how much more cause for doubt and fear there had 
been ; and he more than excused Mendoza because of 
the confidence he now displayed. Nor was the conduct 
of Pedro without its effect on the rest of the crew. He 
was so much nearer their own level that they could 
comprehend him. Their great leader they could inso- 
lently call, among themselves, ‘ A crazy visionary but 
Pedro was no visionary. If Pedro was satisfied, there 
must be something in it ; and on the strength of Pedro’s 
confidence, there was a sudden revulsion of feeling 
among the sailors. Once more hope took the place of 
gloom, and before this happy reaction could pass away, 
the signs of land were such as no longer to admit of 
doubt. As on previous occasions, the joy of expectation 
became so great that the much-tried commander found 
their excitement almost as unmanageable as their pre- 
vious dejection. In proportion as his companions grew 
hopeful, Pedro Mendozh grew moody. His keen gaze 
looked far ahead with an eagerness that saw a possible 
shore in every mistlike outline ; but he feared to peril 
success by calling out too soon ; although more than 
once, in the crystal-clear atmosphere before sunset, he 
felt certain that he saw land, and in his heart he cursed 
the admiral for that precaution which now prevented 
him from proclaiming his discovery. 

“ As the evening drew on Columbus himself took up 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


109 


a position on the spot whence he could, to the best 
advantage, range his eye along the dusky horizon. At 
ten o’clock he saw a light glimmering far off. Pedro 
also saw this light or thought he did, but sparks of .fire 
seemed dancing before his eyes, and he dared not 
believe it real. The light disappeared, or perhaps it 
had never existed ; at any rate it was no longer seen. 
The ships moved slowly on till two o’clock in the morn- 
ing. At that hour there was a loud, shrill cry of ‘ land ’ 
from the lips of Mendoza, on board the Santa Maria, and 
from a .sailor named Rodrigo de Triana on board the 
Pinta ; and in the same instant both cries were drowned 
ill the report of a gun, fired by order of Martin Alonso 
Pinzon. For a little while the ships continued their 
course, till, all in a moment, land was plainly seen but 
a few miles ahead, when they took in sail and lay to, 
impatiently waiting for the full dawn of day. 

“ No words can describe the excitement of the men as 
they now rested, after all the doubts, the trials, the 
terrors of their long voyage, waiting to feast their eyes 
on the shores they had reached. But in the midst of it 
the admiral stood, absorbed in thought, rapt in silent 
communion with his soul ; glad, triumphant, but, above 
all, grateful that he had been permitted to accomplish 
his object. The mystery of the ocean was penetrated ; 
a new world was open to posterity ; and the name of 
the poor adventurer — a man that had been the scoff of 
sages and the idle mock of the ignorant would now be 
lifted into a glory as bright and deathless as the stars ! 

“ The dawn came quickly — that glorious morning of 
October 12, 1492, by the Old-Style calendar ; October 
21, by our present calendar. 

“ Before them the voyagers saw a beautiful island, 
many leagues in extent, its shores lined with trees 
almost to the water’s edge and beyond that, fine groves 


110 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


of trees like orchards. It was evidently populated, for 
the inhabitants could be seen in every direction, run- 
ning to and fro, appealing to each other with gestures 
of mingled astonishment and fear, as they pointed to 
the ships that had arrived in the night. To the Span- 
ish sailors these natives of the New World were as sing- 
ular and wonderful as the ships with their crews were 
to ‘ the savages and they were all impatience to make 
closer acquaintance with them. 

“ Columbus ordered the boats to be manned and 
armed. He entered his own boat, richly attired in bril- 
liant scarlet and carr3ung the royal standard ; and, with 
hearts beating high with triumph, they approached the 
new and marvelous shore, charmed alike with the purity 
of the atmosphere, the transparency of the water and 
the wonderful richness of the vegetation. The admiral 
declared the New World to be ‘ an earthly Paradise.* 

“ At all times a devout man, with a soul overflowing 
with adoration of the Creator, the first act of Columbus, 
on landing, was to fall on his knees, and, with tears of 
gratitude, return thanks to God for their deliverance 
from many dangers and their safe arrival on this long- 
sought shore. He then reverently bent and kissed the 
earth, and, rising, drew his sword, unfurled the royal 
standard of Spain and took solemn possession, in the 
name of Ferdinand and Isabella, naming the island San 
Salvador. The enthusiasm of the Spanish sailors knew 
no bounds, and those who had behaved the most inso- 
lently toward their noble leader now prostrated them- 
selves, entreating his pardon and promising henceforth 
the most implicit obedience. 

“ Columbus, with natural generosity, accepted both 
apologies and promises, finding it impossible to blur the 
triumph of his success even by just and necessary 
severity. 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


Ill 


“ Although ‘ the Indians ’ (as the Spaniards called 
them) at first fled, curiosity and the encouraging gen- 
tleness of Columbus soon brought them back, and they 
proved to be as guileless and hospitable as they were 
timid. They were soon offering to the strangers every- 
thing of their best, accepting in return the most trivial 
articles as gifts from the gods. 

Their language, however, was foreign to the inter- 
preters with whom Columbus had provided himself, but 
they were quick at pantomime, having all the keenness 
of perception peculiar to untutored people, and the lit- 
tle that was to be known about the island was soon 
learned. 

‘‘ A few of the natives, apparently of more importance 
than their follows, wore ornaments of gold ; and when 
they understood from Columbus that it was his wish to 
find this precious metal, they explained, by signs, that 
it could be found on many adjacent islands, the position 
of which they indicated to him. The Spaniards, then, 
soon prepared to leave San Salvador, having first taken 
on board a supply of water and such simple food and 
fruits as the natives could offer ; and notwithstanding 
the entreaties of these simple beings, who confidently 
believed that the new arrivals were divine and had 
descended from the sky, they left this lovely island, on 
the third day after landing on it, to pursue their adven- 
turous search for more profitable shores. 

“ There was now no further grumbling among the 
Spanish sailors. Truly ‘things seen are mightier than 
things heard their former lack of confidence in the 
admiral was changed to faith and veneration, and they 
were almost as ready as the simple savages to believe 
him above ordinary humanity. 

“The next landing was made upon an island about 
five or six leagues distant ; but though Columbus found 


112 


THE SPANISH TKEASURE. 


the inhabitants gentle and willing to display such 
treasures as they possessed, he was again disappointed 
in his quest for gold. Some of the Indians wore anklets 
and bracelets of the precious metal, and a few were 
further decorated with strings of pearls. These orna- 
ments they readily bestowed on the Spaniards, in 
exchange for bright-colored beads and hawks’ bells, 
with which they were mightily pleased ; and they told 
them the gold and the pearls could be found on other 
islands not far distant, which they described and 
named. 

“ While cruising about from island to island, Pedro 
Mendoza had kept an eager watch on all that happened ; 
and although gold was an article of royal monopoly 
and Columbus had forbidden all traffic in it without his 
permission, Pedro had already possessed himself of 
several specimens of what the Indians too soon learned 
to denominate ‘ the Spaniard’s god.’ His avarice led 
him toward it by an attraction as mysterious, but as 
sure as that of the iron to the loadstone ; and already 
the thought had crossed his mind of deserting the 
expedition in order more freely and entirely to give up 
his life to his most passionate desire. Amnng this 
simple people, he might reign a king, possessed of 
wealth greater than was ever owned by the sovereigns 
of his native land ; and in such ambitious dreams the 
memory of Juanita and little Raphael had already 
grown so faint that for days and even weeks he forgot 
to think of them. What had at first been like a dream, 
a fantasy, soon took the shape of reality, and Mendoza 
found himself devising a plan by which he could fulfill 
his purpose. 

“ Columbus and his followers had landed upon a 
most beautiful island, one of which, in his journal, he 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


113 


wrote with such enthusiasm that the reader, even at 
this distant day, is thrilled by the description of it. 

“ ‘ The groves are marvelous, and in all the island 
everything is green as it is in April in our own Anda- 
lusia. The singing of the birds is such, that it seems as 
if one would never desire to depart hence ; there are 
flocks of parrots that obscure the sun, and other birds 
large and small of so many different kinds that it is 
wonderful .... Trees of a thousand varieties, each 
having its particular fruit, and all of marvelous flavor 
. . . and so soft and good is the air from all manner of 
flowers, that it is the sweetest thing in the world . . . 
here, indeed, one could live forever !’ 

“ And it was here that Pedro Mendoza finally resolved 
to stay, for a secret prescience — the magnet that re- 
sponded to the love of gold within his soul — told him 
that on this charmed spot he would yet find the treasure 
he sought. 

“ The natives on this island were in every way 
superior to any the Spanish adventurers had yet en- 
countered, but they were simple in nature ; and, as the 
others had done, they firmly believed Columbus and his 
followers to be angelic visitors descended from the sky. 
They said, in answer to the usual inquiries for gold, that 
the island abounded with the precious metal, but must 
be sought in the interior, where lived a great prince, 
surrounded by warriors, all of whom wore ornaments of 
gold and whose wives and daughters wore strings of 
pearls and precious stones about their necks and on 
their arms and ankles. 

“ This was joyful tidings for Columbus, who felt that 
he had now reached the true Eldorado. He determined 
to send envoys to the court of this barbaric prince, 


114 


THE SPANISH TREASUKE. 


while he and the rest of his followers investigated more 
closely the^ shores of the island. The natives had told 
him that the prince lived a long distance away — a four 
days’ journey— and he was not expecting the return of 
his messengers within eight or ten days ; for he had 
commanded them to bring back full accounts of all 
they should find and also specimens of the gold and 
treasures of the interior. When, therefore, they re- 
turned several days sooner than he expected them, 
reporting that neither prince nor gold nor any kind 
of treasure was to be discovered, he was bitterly disap- 
pointed ; but Pedro Mendoza, who had been one of the 
messengers, exulted. In the disappointment of Colum- 
bus he saw his own triumph ; the hour for which he had 
waited and hoped was now at hand. 

The admiral at once decided to leave this island and 
sail further in search of the river whose waters flowed 
over sands of gold. A young Indian girl had described 
this river to him as being in an adjacent island called 
Babeque. It is supposed that this word was not the 
name of the island, but an epithet descriptive of its 
people or its productiveness, and that the admiral’s 
ignorance of the Indian language caused him to mis- 
take it for the name of a place. To the great 
delight of Mendoza, and to the dissatisfaction of the 
rest of his crew, he decided at once to set sail in quest 
of Babeque. Discontent had again broken forth among 
the sailors, although as yet nothing of it had reached 
the ears of Columbus ; but Pedro knew that Martin 
Alonso, captain of the Pirita, had sworn to part from 
Columbus, in order to make discovery on his own 
account. Pinzon and his crew, and indeed all the 
sailors, considered that Columbus made too great haste 
to leave these islands before he had thoroughly invest!- 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


115 


gated their resources or even permitted his men the 
enjoyment of a change from ocean to land. 

“ The threatened desertion of the Pinta gave Mendoza 
the opportunity for which he had been watching. 
When the order was given to return to the boats he con- 
cealed himself and was nowhere seen. He feared a 
search might be made for him if his absence was 
observed, but he had given out among his fellows an 
intention to join the crew of the Pinta. This would, of 
course, anger the admiral, whom he hated ; but, as the 
Pinta would also have deserted before the morning, 
anger would be useless. It pleased Mendoza to think 
of his commander’s dismay when he should discover the 
desertion of Martin Alonso with his ship and crew ; 
and it pleased him still more to picture to himself the 
distress of Columbus at the loss of ‘ a faithful follower,’ 
if he should ever be rejoined by the Pinta. This man 
hated the admiral with the instinctive hate of evil 
toward good and for personal reasons besides. The 
reward for the first sight of ^ land ’ had been awarded 
to the sailor on board the Pinta, although Mendoza 
swore that he had first proclaimed it. This reward was 
finally given to the commander himself, as being the 
real discoverer, from his having first descried a light 
moving along the shore of San Salvador. 

But this act Pedro Mendoza never knew ; and if he 
had, it would only have intensified his hate of Christo- 
pher Columbus. With a triumphant heart he watched 
the preparations for leaving the island ; and from a 
secure hiding-place his gaze followed the other sailors, 
accompanied by great numbers of the natives, as they 
slowly took their way to the water’s edge, where. they 
entered the boats and soon rowed to the three ships at 
anchor in the beautiful bay. 

It was characteristic of this singular and self-con- 


116 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


tained being that even while he beheld the departing 
vessels lessening every moment as the shades of night 
fell over them like a purple vail, his feelings were all of 
exultation and not of sadness. He remembered, indeed, 
that he was alone on this island, surrounded by sava- 
ges, of whose language he was ignorant and of whose 
real disposition he could not, from his brief acquaint- 
ance with them, possess much knowledge. He had 
taken care, however, to provide himself with arms, and 
he knew that the Indians ascribed supernatural power 
to everything appertaining to the white men. He was 
quick to note the awe with which they had regarded 
the brilliant colors of the admiral’s dress, and he had 
supplied himself from the wardrobe of his commander 
with such articles as he thought likely to be effective 
in displaying his own personal advantages, of which he 
was well aware, and he had garnered up every little 
string of beads and every pair of hawk’s bells that he 
had been able to borrovv^, beg or steal, from the moment 
he had first conceived the idea of remaining with the 
Indians. He was, therefore, fairly well prepared for 
the enterprise he had undertaken. It was only neces- 
sary to work on the superstition and simplicity of the 
natives to have a free course. 

“ He decided not to show himself till the morning, 
but in the early dawn of the next day, when the savages 
were gathered for their first meal, he suddenly appeared 
among them, with the full effect of having descended 
from the sky. Their surprise was wholly joyous, and 
with shouts oi^'Turey! Turey !' they gathered around 
him, and Mendoza perceived by their use of this word, 
which, among them, meant something celestial or 
divine, that he was received as a god. That he had 
returned to them while his companions had chosen to 
depart seemed a special act of condescension, and to 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


117 


show their appreciation of this favor they prostrated 
themselves before him and kissed the hem of his 
mantle. 

“ This was precisely the effect that Pedro had desired 
to produce, and he was not slow to avail himself of the 
great advantage it gave him. He at once assumed the 
position of the visible representative of their presiding 
deity, and from that moment his influence over these 
simple and amiable children of nature was supreme. 

“ Mendoza had no cause to fear that any search would 
be made for him by Columbus, but he had determined 
to run no risks and at once made known his inten- 
tions to seek for the concealed city and its ruler in 
the interior of the island. During the time that the 
admiral’s messengers had spent in this search, Pedro 
had seen enough of the country to feel sure that it 
became finer and richer the further it was explored ; 
and it had been because of his selfish desire to have its 
wealth entirely to himself that he had persistently dis- 
couraged his companions, declaring to them, notwith- 
standing all the Indian guides protested to the con- 
trary, that only disappointment and fatigue, with the 
probabilty of death under the tropic heat, lay before 
them if they persevered in the hopeless search. Now, 
however, he set forth, accompanied by several of the 
natives, and feeling confident of success in that same 
search, while he listened eagerly to their predictions 
that they would soon arrive at the kingdom of Ornofay. 

“ Ever since his arrival on the island, Pedro had 
especially noticed two young Indians of exceptional 
quickness and intelligence. They excelled in pan- 
tomime and learned words and phrases of Spanish so 
readily that very soon he could communicate easily with 
them, so that now he had no difficulty in making him- 
self understood. These youths he took on his expedi- 


118 


THE SPANISH TREASUEE. 


tion to the interior, and they proved of signal value in 
the course of the journey and afterward. 

“ The Indians had, at first, described their chieftain’s 
city as being at a distance of four days’ walk, but, owing 
to the extreme heat in the middle of the day and the 
hilly character of the country as they advanced from 
the shore, Pedro found himself not yet at the end of his 
journey when the four days had lengthened into seven. 

“ But on the evening of that day they had come to a 
range of mountains beyond which, as his guides assured 
him, lay a valley, hemmed in by another range of moun- 
tains not 5’^et visible. The Indians, who seemed superior 
to fatigue, were for pushing on at once ; but Mendoza, 
wearied by a march such as he had never known before, 
and unwilling to admit that he was quite worn out lest 
he should peril his reputation as a celestial being, 
peremptorily decided to wait till morning, intimating to 
the Indians his desire to greet the sun before proceed- 
ing further. As their rude religious ideas embraced 
the god of day among their deities, they readil}^ re- 
sponded to this desire on the part of the celestial 
stranger, and all prostrated themselves before him, kiss- 
ing the earth at his feet and transported with joy when 
he permitted them to press their lips on his hand. 

“Fruits and flowers and many kinds of nuts grew 
everywhere in great abundance, and crystal streams of 
water were frequent. Besides this, the Indians had 
brought a supply of cassava bread— a thin cake, made 
from the pulp of the yucca root — and skins filled with 
the juice of a luscious grape which grew in the woods in 
such profusion that the trunks and branches of trees 
were often covered by its vines, from which hung great 
bunches . of the purple fruit. Pedro fared well, and 
although he could not wholly banish anxiety in regard 
to his reception by Ornofay, who might be neither so 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


119 


simple nor so hospitable as his present friends, he felt 
no serious alarm and calmly retired to rest. His Indians 
had prepared for him a couch made from the boughs of 
trees, covered with heaps of leaves and long grass, and 
strewn with the gorgeous blossoms of the amaryllis, and 
as the island was free from serpents and every kind of 
reptile, sleeping in the open air was as safe as it was 
pleasant. 

‘‘ At the dawning of the day, when all the tropic sky 
was pale blush-rose, preparing for the deeper hues of 
sunrise, while the clear air palpitated in harmony with 
awaking nature, while the myriad flowers unclosed 
their blossoms, raising their radiant faces to the light 
and sending forth their perfume as incense to the morn- 
ing, and while every tree and bush trembled with the 
music of birds that blended into one triumphant 
anthem of praise and joy, the Spanish adventurer 
awaked, thoroughly refreshed, and rising from his frag- 
rant couch, hastened to prepare himself for the com- 
ing interview. He made a careful toilet, taking pains 
to make the most of his fine person and handsome face, 
and akso to display to the utmost advantage the brilliant 
scarlet mantle stolen from the admiral’s wardrobe, and 
as many bright colored beads and jingling little hawks’ 
bells as he could hang about his neck and arms and 
ankles. To his simple followers he was a most impos- 
ing figure, and while they prepared and served his 
breakfast, standing so as to form a circle round his 
sacred person, Pedro began to feel that he was rapidly 
becoming more than mortal. 

“ When they began the ascent of the mountains, 
Mendoza pointed to the highest peak, and signified 
that nothing would satisfy him but to descend into the 
city beyond from the greatest elevation ; and as this 
was in accord with the Indian idea of his character as a 


120 


THE SPANISH TREASUKE. 


deity, it served to increase their awe and veneration. 
He went first ; and being a good climber, sure of foot 
and well-accustomed to the mountains of his native 
land, he made an excellent show of speed, which, to the 
excited imaginations of the Indians, was easily exag- 
gerated into supernatural swiftness. Any one of these 
fleet, undressed, untrammeled savages could have 
beaten Pedro Mendoza in a race, but so penetrated 
were they with awe, verging on terror, that they 
lagged behind, exclaiming and gesticulating among 
themselves, unconsciously supplying him with the 
appearance of superhuman powers with which he 
desired to impress them. 

“ Long before any of the Indians had overtaken him, 
Pedro had reached the summit of the highest peak, and 
there a sight of grandeur and of glory burst on his view 
that for a moment caused his sordid heart to forget all 
else in beholding it. The sun was now well up in the 
sky, for it had been a steep and toilsome climb, and 
Mendoza was more than two thousand feet above the 
sea-level ; and on every side, for he stood on the highest 
peak of the island, he could see the shining waters of 
the Atlantic glittering in tints of mingled sapphire and 
silver, palpitating as if with life and seeming, in the 
dazzling rays of the sun, to undulate like a sea of quick- 
silver. 

“ Here and there he could discern dark spots break- 
ing the glistening expanse ; and these he guessed to be 
islands. Some of them probably those he had already 
visited with Columbus and his followers, others those to 
which his late companions were now sailing ; but he 
felt no longing to rejoin them, no regret for having 
deserted them. Here he was a prince, a god, and, if he 
did but manage wisely, this beautiful island would soon 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


121 


be all his own and its people his subjects and devoted 
slaves. 

“ At that thought he withdrew his gaze from the vast 
expanse which had for a moment fascinated him, and 
looked down toward the fertile and beautiful valley at 
the foot of the mountains, a great emerald set round 
with points of silver, turquois, ruby, topaz and amethyst ; 
'for in that glorious light the mountains took on all hues 
and colors. 

“ By this time the Indians had reached Mendoza, and 
by signs and eager ejaculations they told him that he 
now beheld the city of their chief and the home of Ana- 
caona. 

“ At first Pedro could see nothing but the valley, and 
for a moment a sharp spasm of disappointment and also 
of fear shot through his heart, for he thought the 
Indians had deceived him, and that neither city nor 
inhabitants lay before him. He had not the keen sight 
of the natives, but presently he began to distinguish 
specks of white and moving figures. And then, in 
answer to the excited gestures of his companions, he 
began composedly to descend the mountain, while the 
Indians went on ahead to prepare for his reception. 

“ The further he descended the more plainly he could 
see this curious city. There were several hundred 
houses and a number of habitations like tents ; which, 
as he subsequently learned, were made of a species of 
strong cotton cloth stretched upon poles of bamboo 
cane. The houses were rude structures raised on 
foundations of logs, open on all sides, having roofs 
thatched with straw, leaves and grass, but within they 
were neat and clean and ornamented in many ways, 
showing a rude appreciation of artistic effect that gave 
token of a much higher civilization than anything met 
with so far in this new country. 


122 


THE SPANISH TREASDEE. 


“ When Pedro reached the foot of the mountain, he 
found that the whole city, with the exception of the 
aged and the infants, had turned out to receive him. 
These natives did not flee at the sight of the white man, 
but they welcomed him reverently and as a messenger 
of the gods. Among the Indians to this day it is com- 
mon to expect celestial visitants ; and Pedro soon under- 
stood that there was a tradition in this tribe of a 
messenger from Heaven, who was to arrive in the per- 
son of a 5^oung and lord-like man ; and, as his appear- 
ance exactly met their expectations, he was at once 
accepted as the visible deity for whom they had waited. 
Pedro had all the intellectual acumen necessary to avail 
himself of the advantages placed in his way by such 
superstitions. 

“ These natives were a handsome people, especially 
the women. Their language was the same as that 
spoken by the other natives, and it also resembled in a 
great degree that of the inhabitants of all the other 
islands ; but it sounded more musical because of the 
deep, clear voices of the speakers and the delicate modu- 
lation of their tones. They were clothed also and, 
although their costume was primitive, it was evident 
that the females took considerable pride in their drapery 
of bright-colored cotton cloth ; while every eye was 
fixed in admiration on Pedro’s scarlet mantle and fine 
velvet doublet and silk hose — also stolen from his com- 
mander’s wardrobe. But what attracted and riveted 
his attention was the profusion of gold ornaments worn 
as rings, as bracelets and as anklets by the large majority 
of Ornofay’s subjects, while the king himself and his 
daughter displayed all such ornaments and others even 
more magnificent, that Mendoza’s practical eye told him 
were jewels of price, with a lavish carelessness that 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


123 


proved, more than words could have done, how freely 
these treasures abounded in this charmed spot. 

“ The cacique Ornofay wore a tunic of dark-red cotton 
cloth and a mantle of the same in white. His breast- 
plate and coronet were of gold, studded with precious 
stones. But the magnificence in attire and ornament 
displayed by his daughter Anacaona plainly showed 
that she was the person of most state and consequence 
on the island. This barbaric princess was of a beauty, 
grace and natural dignity that might have commanded 
admiration in any civilized court. Much taller than the 
Spanish women, with whom Pedro involuntarily com- 
pared her, greatly to her advantage, her form would 
have served the ancient Greek sculptors as a model for 
the ideal Venus ; and she wore her white tunic and 
mantle with the ease and dignity of a Roman matron. 
All of these Indians were much lighter in color than any 
yet seen by the Spaniards, but Anacaona was fairer than 
any of the others. Her features were delicate and 
refined, her teeth of dazzling whiteness, and her large, 
dark eyes of a soft and melting luster. Her hair, which 
was straight and long and black, like that of the rest of 
her tribe, hung loose about her shoulders, and among 
its luxuriant tresses were wound strings of pearls and 
natural flowers. A golden coronet, studded with gems, 
much richer than that worn by Ornofay, crowned her 
head ; and above the coronet, and valued far more by 
the wearer, was a tuft of brilliant and many-colored 
feathers. 

“Near the Indian princess stood the two young 
Indians whom Mendoza had endeavored to prepare as 
interpreters, and as she came forward to welcome the 
Spaniard, they strove to render the meaning of her 
words according to their limited comprehension of the 
stranger’s language. Pedro responded with all the 


124 : 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


grandiloquence of his native tongue, raising his arms 
toward heaven and seeming to embrace all the blue and 
cloudless sky in his reply. 

“ His Indians then translated, with all that their 
vividly impressed fancy could add ; and the princess 
devoutly crossed her arms upon her breast and bent her 
head before him, while her subjects knelt and touched 
their foreheads to the earth, in token of submission and 
reverence to the messenger of the gods, 

“ By a fortunate inspiration, Pedro was moved to lay 
his hand on the bowed head of the princess and to utter 
a benediction such as the priests of his own land would 
have bestowed ; whereupon Anacaona, with a radiant 
glance, led him to her father, and from that moment he 
was treated not only as an honoied guest and celestial 
messenger but also as a son of the cacique. 

“ It was soon evident to Pedro that he had only to 
express such a wish to become indeed the son of Orna- 
fay ; for Anacaona was as madly in love with him as 
his own little Juanita in far-off Spain — Juanita who 
had become no more than a figure in some half-forgot- 
ten dream, and the recollection of whom, in the infre- 
quent moments when he thought of her, would not for 
an instant stand in the way of a marriage with this 
Indian girl. His one thought now was to rivet his 
power over this Indian tribe and become permanently 
their guamiquina — a word signifying ‘ great chief over 
all.’ He speedily learned why Anacaona was regarded 
with special reverence and why she occupied in their 
regard a place even higher than that of her father, the 
cacique. Ornofay. They believed her possessed of occult 
powers and revered her as an almost supernatural 
being. Pedro observed this with some alarm, for he 
perceived that this beautiful barbarian was of an intel- 
ligence that would have been remarkable even among 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


125 


his own countrywomen ; and he suspected her ‘ super- 
natural gifts,’ to be a pretense, assumed for the purpose 
of holding greater sway over her subjects. He rea- 
soned that if she was shrewed enough for this, she 
would soon suspect and comprehend the extent of- his 
own celestial claims. 

“ All the more reason, then, that their interests should 
be made one ; and he determined to avail himself of the 
advantages of Anacaona’s evident preference for him. 

“ The ‘ Golden Flower,’ — for that was the meaning of 
the Indian maiden’s name in the language of her peo- 
ple — showed love’s own quickness in learning the soft, 
melodious words of the Spanish tongue ; and as she 
never tired of listening to his voice, Pedro found no 
difficulty in his wooing. Even her name, when he 
learned its meaning, was fascinating ; and when she 
showed him a small, star-shaped flower, telling him 
that was the ‘ Anacaona,’ he pressed it to his lips and 
declared that henceforth it should be as dear as any gift 
of the gods. 

“ ‘ But why do you call it the flower of gold ?’ asked 
Pedro, his gaze intently fixed on the pretty blossom, 
which was of the brightest crimson — a true blood-color. 
Though as he turned it about in his fingers, the sun- 
light, gleaming on its velvety leaves, seemed to strike 
color like orange flames from the heart of it. 

“‘Not for its color — for the meaning. My people 
call it golden flower,’ answered the girl, in the broken 
phrases that Pedro always understood as well as she 
now felt the meaning of his glowing looks. 

“ And, pointing over the mountains, she explained, 
by eloquent pantomime when words failed, how the 
flower grew only where gold was found, and that she 
had been ever the first to find this rare flower, till the 
people had bestowed its name upon her. 


126 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


“At these words, Pedro’s heart beat quick with joy. 

“ From the first he had been assured that gold was 
plentiful on this island, and that it existed in vast 
quantities among the mountains, and it had been a 
severe discipline for him to keep his avaricious desires 
under control till the right moment should arrive. 

“ Since he had come to the city of Ornofay, he had 
often spoken of gold ; but the Indians had always looked 
toward Anacaona, and he had supposed this to mean 
that they were not free to speak in her presence. But 
now he speedily guessed that it indicated some peculiar 
and special relation between her and the precious 
article he so coveted ; and while this was, to a certain 
extent, reassuring to Pedro, it was also alarming. If 
the Indian girl really believed him a supernatural being, 
she would deny him nothing, but if she suspected him 
of playing a part, how should he be able to influence 
her ? He had only to look in her eyes to answer his 
question ; and meeting her soft, adoring gaze, Pedro 
felt that she could be won and managed like other 
women. 

“ ‘ Shall we not search together for the golden flower ?’ 
he asked, with a smile that made the girl's sensitive 
being thrill with joy ; ‘ answer me, sweetheart.’ 

“ ‘ Ah, yes, mio qiierido^ and pluck the flower from the 
ground !’ And she showed him how, when she had 
wrenched the plant from its bed, she had found tin}- 
lumps of the yellow metal clinging to its roots. 

“ The eyes of Mendoza glittered with a far from 
heavenly light, but Anacaona did not see it ; nor would 
she have understood the avaricious glow that now over- 
spread his face. To her the gold was a wonderful 
thing, because she alone had ever found its precious 
flower ; and that was a gift bestowed on her by the 
gods — for some great purpose — as she had always 


An acOidenTal Eiss. 


127 


believed. That purpose was now revealed ; it was to 
enable her to lead their messenger to the places where 
gold could be found, that she and her people might 
build an altar to the sun-god, bright and beautiful as 
his own glorious face. 

“ To-morrow, then, shall we hunt the flower of gold 
together.^” asked Pedro, responding with enthusiasm to 
the innocent words which showed him a way to realize 
his wildest dreams. 

“ ‘ Even as thou sayest, most beautiful,' answered the 
Indian girl ; and again she crossed her arms upon her 
breast and bowed her head, as she had done when they 
first met. 

“ Pedro was tempted to take her in his arms and press 
his suit like any mortal wooer, but something he did not 
understand still held him back. He merely placed his 
hand on the bowed head and blessed her. 

“ Notwithstanding the favor shown him by Anacaona 
and the certainty he felt of being able to win her for a 
wife, Mendoza had never yet put his feelings into any 
form of declaration. 

“ He spoke, indeed, the language of love, and the 
Golden Flower responded, but he could never feel quite 
sure whether her evident adoration was the devotion of 
a worshiper to its deity, or the love of a woman for a 
man. And the more he learned to know Anacaona, and 
the better she learned to express herself in his language, 
the more he became puzzled. Sometimes she told him 
of visions that came to her and of voices that she heard 
— visions of angels with which the air seemed peopled, 
and strains of heavenly music that wrapt her whole 
being in delight ! And when she spoke of these things 
she seemed transfigured ; a light flashed from her eyes 
that caused her face to shine, and a star-like radiance 
gleamed above her brow. 


1^8 


THE SPANISH TREASDRE. 


“ Pedro felt a chill creep over him, and though he 
had never been a religions man, he furtively crossed him- 
self and muttered a prayer to the Virgin. Such visions 
and voices as these described by the Golden Flower 
were well known in the church into which Mendoza 
had been baptized, and those to whom they came had 
been canonized as saints ; but outside that church all 
such experiences were uncanny and could only occur to 
such as were in league with Satan. At first the Indian 
girl’s visions and mystical tales had only startled Pedro 
by a depth of duplicity even greater than his own ; but 
as the conviction grew on him that she was in earnest 
he became afraid of her — for he was a sailor and a 
Spaniard and therefore doubly superstitiotis ; and 
though he was determined to fortify his power over 
this tribe of Indians by marrying their chief’s daughter, 
he was often more repelled than attracted by her. 

“ The beautiful Anacaona was a being of a purer and 
loftier type than any with which Mendoza had yet been 
brought in contact, except during his brief association 
with Columbus ; and the evil in his nature now recoiled 
from all that was fine and noble in hers, for the same 
reason that he had instinctively hated the admiral. 

“ Though incapable of comprehending these subtilties 
of feeling, Pedro recognized their existence by a fre- 
quent irritability and peevishness in the presence of the 
Golden Flower ; but all such thoughts Were now utterly 
cast out by the one strong passion of his life — the thirst 
for gold. He could think of nothing else, talk of noth- 
ing else ; and when at last he parted from the Indian 
girl, it was with the promise to meet at the earliest 
dawn, to set out in search of the flower of gold. 

“They had travelled many miles before the Spaniard 
discovered that they were followed — constantly, but 
always at a considerable distance ; and by stealthy 


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'i 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


129 


watchfulness, in which no Indian could excel him, he 
was able at length to satisfy himself of the identity of 
the spy. 

“ This was a stalwart young Indian, a relative of the 
cacique, who had considered himself, before the advent 
of Mendoza, a favored suitor for the hand of Anacaona. 
Pedro had often noted this man’s jealousy, without 
giving much thought to it ; but now this espionage 
connected itself with his own fever for gold, and it 
infuriated him. He felt a murderous desire to fix a 
quarrel upon the intruding Indian that he might put 
him out of his way forever ; and while he kept a keen 
watch he redoubled the ardor of his devotion toward 
the Indian girl. The day advanced ; they had travelled 
many miles, and had met with many specimens of the 
golden flower ; and once, on pulling the plant up by 
the root, Pedro had seen the glittering grains of gold 
clinging to it. Anacaona laughed and clapped her hands 
at his delight, and, pointing to all the rocky hills around, 
assured him that gold could be found there anywhere 
for the digging. 

“ Transported with joy, he caught her in his arms, 
her hands clung above his neck and their lips met in 
passionate kisses. The man forgot everything but his 
love for gold ; the woman remembered only her love 
for him. It was not the beautiful Indian girl that 
Mendoza held in his arms, but an enchanting embodi- 
ment of all his avaricious dreams ; but to the Golden 
Flower the god she had long worshiped was forever- 
more the man she adored. 

“ Pedro was entreating her to promise that she would 
at once, without a day’s delay, set men at work to dig 
the yellow treasure from the earth ; and she was prom- 
ising ‘Yes ’ to everything, when they were rudely inter- 
rupted. The jealous Indian had reached their side and. 


180 THE SPANISH TREASURE. 

with a yell of rage, he precipitated himself upon Men- 
doza. At any time, the sailor, as strong and agile as 
his assailant, could have wrestled with him effectually, 
and, at first, he was content merely to protect himself. 
But when the Indian a second time flung himself on the 
Spaniard, he was received on the long, keen blade of a 
Toledo dagger, which pierced straight through his heart 
till the point appeared on the other side. As Pedro 
withdrew the dagger, the spy fell backward without a 
groan. The warm current of his life flowed out on the 
thirsty ground, a ghastly stream, and the white mantle 
of the Golden Flower was stained by it — the first blood 
of the native shed by the hand of the white man and 
the spring of a crimson river that has flowed for four 
centuries between the Indian and his paleface brother ! 

“ All was over so quickly that Mendoza, willing and 
desirous as he had been to rid himself forever of the 
spying Indian, scarcely realized what he had done till a 
sharp cry from Golden Flower roused him to it. 

He turned toward her, but she buried her face 
in her hands and shrank from him in horror. He 
approached and tried to take her hands in his, but she 
thrust him from her and cried out : 

“ ‘ Thou art no messenger from our god ! He is the 
giver of life, but thou dost take it from us ! Away — 
away — thou evil one !’ 

“ Mendoza saw, with dismay, that he had committed 
a terrible blunder. This simple and innocent people 
ascribed to their deity only beneficent attributes and 
worshiped in him the giver of life and all good things. 
Other deities they knew of to whose baleful influ- 
ence they attributed death and all sorts of lesser calam- 
ities, bub those gods were hated and reviled ; and, 
while they were to be propitiated by gifts and occasion- 
ally by cruel sacrifices, they were never worshiped. 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


131 


** Fear lent him both wit and eloquence. He flung* 
himself at the feet of Anacaona, and, forgetting all 
claim to celestial powers, he wooed her as a man, with 
all the ardor of passion, with all the skill of one well 
versed in mortal love-making, and with all the earnest- 
ness of a criminal pleading for life. What she failed 
to comprehend of his speech Anacaona readily under- 
stood by his gestures and the burning pressure of his 
*lips upon her hands. Tears flowed from her eyes, and 
her breast heaved with sobs. Seeing this, Pedro 
changed from entreaty to command. He forbade her 
to judge him as she would judge lesser beings. He 
justified himself by calling her attention to the fact 
that he had struck in self-defense — in defense of the 
deity from whom he came. The dead man had been 
guilty of sacrilege, and even the giver of life must 
withdraw the gift when it was used against himself. 

“ The Golden Flower listened and was convinced — 
more through her eyes than by her understanding ; for 
never had the Spaniard appeared to her so wonderful, 
so irresistible ; and if an element of fear was now 
mingled with her adoration, that only served to 
strengthen it. She was but a poor untutored savage, 
after all, and fear makes more slaves than love. She 
had found her master, and it was with the unreasoning 
tenacity of an animal that she loved him, while the 
new passion of fear served but to rivet her chains. 

“ She turned from the dead man, and, with drooping 
head, gave her hand to his murderer. Pedro clasped it 
closely, triumphantly, and they returned to the city. 

“ Ornofay was neither so shocked nor so terrified as 
his daughter. He had observed his jealous kinsman 
and had heard his threats, and he accepted Pedro’s 
justification as a matter of course. Gods, even such as 


132 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


they worshiped, were terrible in their anger ; therefore 
they must not be angered. 

“ The marriage of Anacaona and Mendoza took place 
on the following day, with such pomp and rejoicings as 
had never till that hour been known on the island. 
Pedro was amazed at the graceful dancing of the Indians. 
Later, he understood that these dances were often of a 
serious and mystic character, though more frequently 
joyous ; but now he was content to admire them simply 
for their grace and charm. As they danced, the Indians 
chanted, with wonderful harmony of voice and move- 
ment, many songs of love ; and in this, as in all accom- 
plishments, the Golden Flower excelled, for she had the 
poet’s gift, and while she danced she improvised a 
steady stream of song, which they called areytos. Of 
these ballads Pedro could understand nothing, except 
that he was the hero of them and her passion for him 
the unceasing theme. The chief instrument of their 
music was called a maguey^ a rude timbrel made of sea- 
shells and the bones of fishes ; and Mendoza now under- 
stood their frantic delight over the hawks’ bells he had 
bestowed on them. These they called turey^ and believed 
to contain angel voices. As many as possessed the bells 
had strung them, with beautiful shells, about their 
wrists, and as they now danced in wild and beautiful 
grace, the Spaniard found himself reminded of the 
castanets and dark-eyed maidens of his native land. 
Feasting succeeded the music and dancing, and then 
the wedded couple received gifts — last of all — oh, joy 
for Mendoza ! — a calabash filled with glittering dust of 
gold ! 

“ Pedro’s first year on the island passed happily 
enough, for every day was full of interest. His wife 
fulfilled her promise to set her people to gather gold 
for him, and although it was not found in such quanti- 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


133 


ties as he had been led to expect, there was, by the end 
of the year, a heap of it that would have made him as 
rich as a grandee of Spain. 

“ With this thought came a longing to get back to his 
native land, where he hoped to purchase power and 
recognition almost as great as he now enjoyed. This 
intention to return to Spain, when he had garnered 
wealth enough to satisfy him, had been in the mind of 
Mendoza from the first ; and now that custom was 
destroying the awe and reverence of his Indian sub- 
jects, he felt how great a risk it must ever be for Jupi- 
ter to descend from Olympus. 

“ His love for the precious yellow stuff continued 
unabated, and there was no joy he could think of to 
equal the joy he felt in bathing his hands in the glitter- 
ing dust, or holding between his palms the shining nug- 
gets, which he could now count by the hundred. It 
sent a thrill of delight quivering along every nerve, 
and, for a time, he included Anacaona in this joy as 
being its chief source ; and she had shown him other 
treasures of their island, too. He possessed a collection 
of pearls, gathered from the river that flowed through 
the island, and a number of precious stones that might 
have ransomed the greatest king in Christendom. 

“ In boyhood, Pedro had been employed by a Jewish 
lapidary, and had thus acquired a knowledge of gems 
that served him well in the selection of the best. As 
his knowledge of the country and its resources increased, 
so his regard for the Golden Flower diminished, and he 
only waited an opportunity to desert both her and her 
subjects forevet, taking with him his little daughter 
Dolores and his treasures of gold and gems. But the 
second year passed, and the third was drawing to a 
close before his preparations were completed ; and in 
all that time he saw little hope of ever being able to 


134 


THE SPANISH TKEASURE. 


effect his escape. He had made himself thoroughly 
acquainted with his domain, although it was a large 
one, and he had several times revisited the shores of 
that beautiful bay where the Spanish ships had anchored 
when Columbus first set foot on the island, and he now 
recalled that great man’s plans for colonizing the New 
World, which, with his fellow-sailors, he had been wont 
to ridicule as the chimerical schemes of a crazy vision- 
ary. 

“ How eagerly he now looked forward to the pos- 
sibility of such schemes being, at least, attempted ! 

“ From the shore-natives he learned that mysteri- 
ous ships had recently been seen ; and if Columbus 
or another had again found the shores of the New 
World, it was reasonable to expect that they would still 
come a third time, a fourth and continuously. He well 
knew the Spanish thirst for gold, and at times his hopes 
ran high. If he sometimes remembered his own con- 
duct in deserting his commander, it did not trouble 
him. He had a well-planned story to explain it. 

“ But the third year passed and the fourth was grow- 
ing old, and yet the longed-for sail had not been seen ; 
and Pedro began to feel that his stay on the island had 
become hateful captivity. The shore-natives had 
received his orders to watch day and night for the 
Spanish ships, and once their swiftest runners had come 
to him with the news that the great canoes of the 
pale-face cacique^ with spread wings, had been seen 
again ; and Pedro hastened to the beach. But nothing 
was there — nothing but what seemed a sail disappear- 
ing in the distance. Many days and nights they 
watched the sea, but only the glory of its blue beauty 
rewarded them. 

“ Meantime, however, Pedro continued his prepara- 
tions, but in secret and with fear as well as hope. 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


135 


“ Many of the Indians had never recovered from the 
feeling engendered in their minds by the murder of 
their brother ; and although the body of the jealous 
man had been buried where it fell, and had been 
refused the customary rites of sepulture, becaUvSe he 
had raised his hand against a celestial being, there were 
those among the malcontents who visited his grave as 
a sacred spot. Also, the Golden Flower had once said 
to Pedro that the spirit of her murdered kinsman had 
appeared to her and had warned her against the white 
man. All this alarmed Mendoza, and he longed to get 
away from these uncertain savages, who might kneel 
to him in adoration on one day, and burn him on the 
next, as the embodiment of all their evil gods. But, 
above all other creatures, he now feared his wife, the 
beautiful Golden Flower. 

Anacaona had greatly changed since her marriage 
with the Spaniard. More beautiful than ever and more 
devotedly, slavishly attached to him, she had grown 
jealous and fierce and, poisoned by fear, suspicious and 
deceitful. The luminous eyes, once radiant with happi- 
ness, now burned and glowed with angry fire. The 
voices that had seemed like angel music wafted from 
distant spheres now whispered dreadful thoughts and 
dark suspicions to her soul. The shadowy forms of 
light that had once peopled all the air about her now 
gave place to grisly and threatening figures, forever 
warning her against the man she adored — the husband 
whom she could not choose but love, though he might 
slay her. More than once Mendoza had seen her fall 
as one dead, her face and form rigid, her eyes wide open 
but staring upward ; and then her tense lips would 
unclose, and voices he never knew would issue from 
them, speaking in a language he could not understand. 

“ These trances, clairvoyant visions, cataleptic seiz- 


136 


THE SPANISH TKEASITKE. 


tires, whatever the advanced science of to-day may 
prefer to call them, were common to this Indian prin- 
cess, apd they were regarded with awe and veneration 
by her people. But to Mendoza they were the cause of 
unutterable horror, and it was with profound and shud- 
dering fear that he believed his Indian wife to be pos- 
sessed of the devil. 

“ In one of these trances Anacaona had suddenly 
spoken in the voice of Juanita. She told him of their 
child, little Raphael, left to the mercy of strangers. 
She spoke of the little churchyard where her body was 
laid to rest. She forgave him for his perfidy and 
desertion, but she conjured him to live a better life. 
What did it mean ? These were Juanita’s very tones. 
The description of the home where he had left her and 
of the little churchyard was perfect. Pedro felt his 
hair rise as if a cold breeze had blown through it, while 
icy beads of perspiration started up on his brow. He 
had never talked of these things to Anacaona. Had he 
spoken in his sleep, and was this a trick to deceive him ? 
He bent over the rigid form and glared into the wide- 
open eyes. He caught her up in his arms and shook 
her. He pinched the neck and arms till his nails sunk 
into the flesh. Not a cry ; not the quiver of an eyelash. 
With a hoarse, muttered oath, full of rage and fear, the 
Spaniard turned and fled. He never dared to remem- 
ber that scene, but in vain he tried to forget it ; and a 
frantic desire grew on him to return to Juanita and 
Raphael — but always with Dolores ! However or when- 
ever he should make his escape, he determined, with all 
his evil strength of will, to carry his little daughter. 

“ Never was a more beautiful or more exquisite 
creature born into the world than the little Dolores. 
Paler in color than her mother, her skin had the rich 
olive tint of Spain, and her large eyes had that inten- 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


137 


sity of color and star-like brilliance that have made the 
maidens of Madrid famed thoughout the world. They 
had also the luminous radiance that had once thrown a 
light like a halo above the brow of Anacaona. Her 
abundant hair, as black as her mother's, had a wavy 
softness unknown to the Indian’s, and on her lips and 
cheeks was the hue of the ripe pomegranate. She had 
all the beauty of both parents and more, as if the union 
of two races had combined to produce a third, distinct 
and original. From her father she had inherited the 
Mendoza birthmark, and the little, heart-shaped mole 
on her left temple was the color of bright amber, deep- 
ening under the stress of emotion till it looked like a 
brilliant topaz raised from the pale-olive skin. The 
mysterious psychic temperament inherited from her 
mother could already be seen in the dreamy look, that 
gave an expression of exaltation to the childish face, as 
if the spirit already saw through the coming centuries. 

“ The Indians adored the little Dolores. Her mother 
once more lived the happy innocence of girlhood 
in the child’s radiant smile, and even Pedro Men- 
doza had a few sacred moments, when his little daughter 
seemed more precious than the yellow glitter of the 
only god he*had ever worshipped. But, for her sake as 
well as his own, he now longed more than ever to get 
away from this island that had once seemed the 
entrance to Paradise. He had wild dreams of the 
future. His wealth would be fabulous, and with the 
blood of Spanish nobles,' to which he lay claim, might 
gain him a recognition and a place among the princes 
— if he could but make his escape ! 

“ It was in the year 1498 that word came to Mendoza 
that a Spanish ship lay at anchor less than a league 
from the shore, and had sent boats for a supply of water. 
The news was brought by his two favorite Indians, 


138 


THE SPANISH TEEASURE. 


who had remained entirely faithful to him, and who 
always continued to believe him a messenger from the 
skies. He had given them the fanciful but appropriate 
names of Fleetfoot and Scarlet Wings, in token of 
their swiftness ; and he would now have accompanied 
them, at their best speed, in order to greet his pale- 
face friends, had not Anacaona suddenly confronted 
him. 

“ With a superb gesture of command she waved away 
all who were standing near, and then she spoke, in low, 
concentrated tones. 

“ ‘ Traitor !’ she said. ‘ Wouldst thou leave me ? Ah, 
mio amico ! Pedro, beloved one, hast thou no heart ? 
Or, art thou indeed a god of evil, as many of my people 
say ? But, beware ! If I but raise my hand, there are 
those who will rend thee limb from limb and burn thy 
false heart to ashes !* 

“ And Mendoza, cowering before her, felt the truth of 
this dreadful threat and knew in every fiber that his 
safety lay in the fact that he was the husband of Anaca- 
ona and the father of Dolores. It was also useless to 
deny his intention to quit the ksland, for he had before 
now seen that the Golden Flower possessed the power 
to read his thoughts and even to put them in the very 
words he had in his mind. 

For a moment he stood overwhelmed, despair in his 
heart, and feeling that he could never now escape from 
this accursed island. Then he suddenly raised his head 
proudly and opened wide his arms, while a glow of well- 
simulated feeling lit up his eyes and flushed his face. 

“ ‘ Come with me !’ he cried in his most persuasive 
tones. ‘Thou shalt be my queen in a land where all 
men are gods, as I am, and all women queens, but none 
so beautiful as thyself ! A land that is truly that heaven 
you see in your dreams, and to which I can carry you 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


139 


without dying — that heaven where our little Dolores 
may live forever, and where death, the terror and fear 
of this world, can never reach us !’ 

“With a cry of joy, Anacaona rushed into his arms 
and was clasped to his heart ; and, with devout thanks- 
giving, Pedro knew that, for the present at least, he was 
safe. He had observed with wonder and fear that the 
more Anacaona was under his influence the less her 
power became to read his thoughts or foresee his inten- 
tions. This psychological mystery, like every thing else 
connected with his Indian wife, served only to increase 
his dread and horror of her ; but for the safety of his 
gold and his life, he was ready to swear a thousand 
oaths of love and fidelity, and so regain all his power 
over the Golden Flower. He quickly explained his pur- 
pose, and, having vowed her to secrecy, hurried to the 
shore to make arrangements for quitting the island. 

“ It was natural that Anacaona, as soon as she no 
longer felt the spell of his presence and the influence of 
his voice and touch, should begin to doubt him ; and 
while assuring her own heart that she believed and 
trusted him, she resolved that she would closely watch 
him, Pedro had built a store-room for his gold and 
gems in a cave at the foot of a mountain — a sacred 
spot where only he and his wife were permitted to go. 
But bolts and bars were unnecessary. The savages 
attached no value to gold or gems, and the fact that 
they were intended as offerings to Turey insured their 
safety. 

“ It was toward this cave that the Golden Flower 
turned her steps when the doubt of Pedro forced itself 
into her thoughts. She found the gold and precious 
stones undisturbed, and that sight gave her more 
certainty of her chief’s return than had all his oaths of 
love, sweet though they had been while she listened to 


140 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


them. It was many long days before Pedro returned, 
but when he came he was even more loving than when 
they parted. Two Spaniards accompanied him, but 
when he told her these men were his brothers she 
smiled, for they were only common sailors ; and Pedro 
was not displeased by the quick glance of comparison 
she flashed from them to him. She was willing to 
believe they had come from the same divine world, but 
to say they were like him — oh — And her one word of 
scorn was very eloquent. 

“ Mendoza had made all arrangements for flight and 
had brought some bags of leather to hold his gold ; the 
precious stones, being easier of transportation, were to 
be concealed in the garments of little Dolores. For 
this purpose he had brought a ‘ sailor’s housewife,’ con- 
taining needles, pins, strong thread and wax. This 
simple outfit of sewing materials was to the Golden 
Flower the most wonderful thing she had yet seen ; and 
had Pedro possessed it when he first landed on the 
island it would have been of priceless value to him. 
Anacaona was now stricken anew with admiration and 
awe of her great master while she watched him use, 
with all a sailor’s deftness, these marvelous little sewing 
implements. 

“ They were seated outside the cave, at a great dis- 
tance from every one ; but they spoke only in the 
Indian language, for Pedro feared to betray too much 
to his Spanish friends who knew nothing of his gold 
and precious stones ; and there was great necessity for 
secrecy regarding his plans so far as Dolores and Ana- 
caona were connected with them. When he told the 
mother that Dolores must go first, the gentle creature 
was terrified at the thought of parting, even for a day, 
from her child ; but when he explained the necessity 
for sending her ahead of them she became calmer ; and 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


141 


Pedro unconsciously took the quickest way of reassur- 
ing her as to the safety of Dolores — for he was at that 
moment sewing up his most precious gems in the seams 
of a little dress the child was to wear. Wheresoever 
his treasures went there also was the heart of Pedro 
Mendoza, and he was sure to follow them. 

‘‘ ‘ And Dolores will be happy ?’ she asked. 

“ ‘ As the angels — among angels like herself,’ he 
answered, holding up the little dress with its skirt of 
bright colored silk. 

“ The ' Indian woman laughed and clapped her hands 
with wonder and delight, while Mendoza explained 
that there were children on the ship who would receive 
Dolores with love and honor. 

“ This was true, for the expedition had brought 
families to colonize the new country, and among them 
were a few children. It had also brought such articles 
as would be likely to please the natives, and among 
them were a few bright and attractive dresses for 
young children. It was one of these that Pedro had 
obtained, with the instantaneous thought that he could 
secure from discovery his precious gems by sewing 
them up in his child’s garments. As to their value, 
Anacaona only knew that her husband prized these 
precious stones as the light of his eyes ; and even to 
her untutored taste they now looked wonderfully beau- 
tiful, for he had managed to cut and polish some of 
them, while others shone from nature’s polishing 
through countless ages. 

Mendoza had already tied up his gold in the leather 
bags, all of which were still secreted within the cave ; 
but the gems lay outside on the great green leaves of 
the cocoa-palm, and as the sunlight streamed over them 
they flashed back in countless rays every color of the 
rainbow. There were pearls of exquisite luster ; opals 


142 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


in whose milky whiteness glowed flames of living fire J 
emeralds greener than the tropic verdure all about them; 
sapphires blue, clear and deep as the sky, and diamonds 
white and pure as prisoned light. Other gems that 
were of less value, but too fine to throw away ; and, 
though their commonness had helped to make their 
owner indifferent to them, it cost him many a muttered 
groan to leave any of them* 

‘^When the Indian girl had first led Mendoza to the 
dry bed of a river near the foot of an extinct volcano, 
he had found there layers of the earth’s surface*that had 
seemed at first all gems. Thousands, tens of thousands 
of years ago, that mountain’s molten fires had poured 
over the jagged rocks, and from that great alchemist’s 
laboratory in the center of the globe had been cast 
forth garnets, amethysts, tourmalines, like gravel on 
the sea-shore ; but Pedro soon learned to choose only 
the large stones and to dig deep for those of finer and 
rarer quality, and all the patience and perseverence of 
his nature had been given to the task. For a time, he 
would trust no hand save his own in this work ; but he 
was soon assured of the indifference of the Indians to 
these priceless gems, whose uncut, dull luster bore no 
comparison in their eyes to a few glittering^ colored - 
gla,ss beads. For a handful of the latter they would 
bring him all the gold and precious stones they could 
dig out of the earth. Ah, who so happy then as Pedro 
Mendoza! He could not then have dreamed that he 
would yet count the hours till he could flee away from 
this enchanted island ! 

“Anacaona, who had been watching the nimble 
fingers of her master till she felt sure she could imitate 
them, seized a needle and soon proved herself an apt 
scholar. Folding a corner of her mantle, she was about 
to secrete one of the finest and largest of the white 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


143 


stones, but Pedro quickly snatched it from her ; and 
pushing toward her a pile of inferior gems which he 
had reluctantly felt obliged to discard, he bade her sew 
these into her mantle and tunic. 

“ The Golden Flower smiled, for to her the amethysts 
and garnets seemed more beautiful than the gems 
chosen by her husband ; and as she sewed and pricked 
her fingers and occasionally cried out playfully or 
laughed like a gleeful child, she suddenly looked up to 
say : 

“ ‘ Ah, beloved, while thou wert away, I did find 
some of these dark, blood-colored stones thou lovest — 
larger and finer than any yet.’ 

“ ‘ Rubies I’ exclaimed Pedro, with glittering eyes. 
He had but few of these rare and valuable stones, and 
not one that was extraordinary. And had he not 
boasted to Raphael that he would bring home rubies as 
red as the blood-red mark upon his brow ? A thrill 
shot through him at the recollection. He would yet 
see Raphael, who must be a fine boy by this time, and 
he would keep his promise, too. His breath came hard 
and fast as he repeated the word : 

“ ‘ Rubies ! Hast thou found rubies ?’ 

“ ‘ Like these,’ answered the Golden Flower, pointing 
to the gem Mendoza was at that instaqt sewing into 
the hem of their child’s bodice. 

“ ‘ Where ?’ 

‘ Far up — there, at the top of the mountain,’ and she 
pointed away toward a great, broken peak in the dis- 
tance — the dead mouth of a burned-out volcano, as the 
Spaniard had long believed it. ^ Something led me there 
when thou wentest away. It is high, and I could see 
afar off ; and once when I stumbled and nearly fell, I 
found at my feet two great stones, like these, but large 
like the egg of the sea-bird.’ 


144 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


‘ O blessed Star-Flower ! What a treasure thou art !* 

‘‘Anacaona became radiant with joy. Star-Flower 
had ever been Mendoza’s most tender name for her, 
and used so rarely that it was more precious than any 
word of love that he could speak to her. 

“ ‘ Where is it, my star ? Didst thou say two of them 
— two, like the sea-bird’s egg } Where are they, sweet 
treasure ?” 

“ ‘ On the mountain, dearest. I would not rob thee of 
the joy of finding them.’ 

“ Pedro’s countenance was so quickly overcast that 
the Golden Flower would have trembled to see it ; but 
she had turned her gaze toward the mountain while 
she spoke. He had the strongest reasons not to anger 
her or in any way awaken her suspicions. So he cleared 
his brow ; but when he spoke, his voice was tremulous 
with the vehemence he was obliged to subdue. 

“ ‘ I would thou hadst brought them, my Golden 
Flower.’ 

“ ‘ They are safe,’ she answered gravely. ‘ The 
mountain seemed to heave and shake, and loud bellow- 
ings and smoke came from its mouth. Perhaps I 
feared to take them. For hast thou not said all these 
stones come from it, and those big, red stones might 
have been its very heart.’ 

“ Pedro could have cursed this new fancy of the poetic 
Indian woman, but he knew it was more than ever need- 
ful to conceal such feelings. He only said : 

“ ‘ When wilt thou lead me there, sweetheart ?’ 

“ ‘ On the night we leave this place,’ was the laconic 
answer, followed by sullen silence that, to the traitorous 
Spaniard, seemed ominous. 

“Anacaona had so thoroughly learned the Spanish 
language, and could so freely express her thoughts with 
all the fervor of a passionate and enthusiastic nature, 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


145 


that any lapse into the laconic style of her people 
alarmed him. Did she suspect him ? Had that super- 
natural faculty of reading his thoughts and foreseeing 
his acts come upon her ? Mendoza at once set himself 
to win her every thought from the future to the imme- 
diate present ; and he succeeded so well that she felt 
him to be more her lover than he had ever been since 
that fatal day when he had shed the blood of her kins- 
man. 

Late on the following night, the two young Indians, 
accompanied by the Spanish sailors, stole away, under 
cover of the darkness, with Dolores. In parting from 
her child, Anacaona had found the need of all her 
fortitude combined with the stoicism of her Indian 
blood. The little creature clung about her mother as 
if aware, by some strong instinct, that she might not 
see her again ; but she pushed her father roughly away. 
She had never loved Mendoza. Then, with sudden, 
touching resolution, she drew up her childish figure, 
turned her face to the sea and walked quickly away, 
followed by the companions of her flight. 

“ The anguish of this parting, temporar)’ though she 
believed it, was heightened td the Indian mother by the 
thought of her own danger and Pedro’s if her people 
should discover her contemplated desertion of them, 
and she spent the rest of the night in trying to invent 
an explanation for the absence of Dolores. But, before 
morning, something had happened to make her task 
easy, for the panic-stricken Indians could think of noth- 
ing else. The whole island was shaken from east to 
west ; not violently, but with a gentle, undulatory 
motion, as if it rocked like a ship on the bosom of the 
sea. This .was succeeded by a stillness in which the 
bending grass and the leaves on the trees listened, the 
very air was hushed, and while a long, deep sigh seemed 


148 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


caused cold chills to shake him like an ague. She had 
been overtaken by the mysterious trance ; and, 
although he feared to look on her, he was safe from her 
at least for the present. But how long would it hold 
her? Dare he leave her so? Would it not be far 
safer to — 

“ His hand sought his dagger and drew it forth. 

“ ‘ The dead alone never return.’ 

“ That was the thought in his mind ; that thought, 
in those same words, became the motto of Robespierre 
three centuries later ; but that only proves how univer- 
sal is the sentiment. 

“No fiend . of the French Revolution ever looked 
more devilish than Mendoza looked then, as he stood 
feeling the edge of his dagger, and looking down upon 
the rigid face of his Indian wife. 

“ ‘ Pedro !’ she said ; but the voice was Juanita’s, 
‘ thou hast broken my heart ! Thou hast killed me ! 
Must she die, too ?’ 

“ With a scream of rage that was broken by super- 
stitious fear, the man staggered back ; but a mocking 
laugh seemed borne past him on the air. He raised 
the dagger and held it poised above the heart of the 
unconscious woman. 

“ ‘ The dead return not ; only the dead never return 
to plague us,’ he muttered. ‘ Fiend ! Demon ! Pos- 
sessed one Die ! Die !’ And the dagger descended 
through the poor, loving, faithful heart, whose only sin 
had been to love this monster, who had to her appeared 
divine. 

“ Again and again, as if he thirsted to slay a hundred 
lives, the miscreant stabbed her, while the crimson cur- 
rent flowed out till it reached his feet. Assured then 
that she was dead past all doubt, he wiped the dagger 
on her mantle, returned it to his belt and sped onward 


AN ACCIDENTAL KISS. 


149 


Up the mountain, nor paused for breath till he had 
reached the spot he sought. 

He did not find the rubies on the instant, but he knew 
that he should find them. The daylight was quite gone 
now, and at this altitude the air seemed to have a light 
of its own. It was a glorious tropical summer night, 
and perhaps on these mountain-tops it was never dark. 
Anyway, he knew he should find the rubies. He was 
down on his hands and knees, feeling about for them, 
digging in the ground for them. Ah, yes, he would 
have them soon ! 

“ What was that ? 

“ Something shook him and flung him from the place 
just as his hand had touched them. He rose and stag- 
gering wildly wondered why Tie could not stand — why 
the whole place seemed shaking and trembling. 

“ With an oath, he rushed toward the spot where, as 
he knew, the rubies were waiting for him. 

“ Ah ! What was that flaming, luminous cloud that 
rose in front of him, causing his blood to curdle and his 
teeth to chatter, while his eyes seemed set and starting 
from their sockets with nameless horror ? The misty 
whiteness of that cloud took the form and outline of 
Anacaona’s white-draped figure, while its flaming 
brightness gathered into one spot from which looked 
out the luminous brow and glowing eyes of his mur- 
dered wife. The shriek of a madman burst from Men- 
doza’s lips ; then crying out : ‘ Ghost ! Devil ! Woman ! 
I care not what thou art ! Thou canst not frighten me ! 
The dead do not return and the rubies are mine !’ he 
rushed forward and flung himself into the flaming 
cloud, that now rose higher, broader, hissing with fury 
and hurling forth stones, fire, steam and a.shes through 
the air. There was a deep, rumbling noise, a hideous 
roar as of a world crashing asunder ; the mountain 


150 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


yawned wide in its terrible awakening, and down 
through its open .jaws sank Pedro Mendoza, swallowed 
up in darkness black and horrible as his own miscreant 
heart ?” 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Polly’s engagement. 

During the reading of the first pages of the manu- 
script, Clarence speedily reached the conclusion that he 
was to be a martyr for the next two hours or there- 
abouts, and he determined to make the best of his posi- 
tion by studying the face of Dolores ; but from the 
moment when she reached the name of Pedro Mendoza 
and, further on, the description of the Mendoza birth- 
mark, his attention was powerfully arrested and held 
till the last tragic word of the story. He was neither 
blessed or cursed with the great faculty of imagination, 
but even his prosaic mind could not fail to see the 
threads of destiny by which the living descendants of 
the traitorous Spaniard and his two unhappy wives were 
bound forever to the victims of that awful tragddy of 
the rekindled volcano ; to the one through crime and 
the blackest butchery, and to the other by the still 
more awful tie of injustice and deathless grief reaching 
out appealing hands for succor even beyond the grave. 
To him, even more than to Dolores, the story had 
peculiar significance ; for by its light he could now 
understand all that had been mysterious and inexplic- 
able in the cryptograph. And he felt assured that 
Dolores was ignorant even of the existence of that 
mysterious document. Had she known of the secret 


Polly’s engagement. 


161 


hiding-place in the miniature, she would never have 
allowed it to go out of her possession. 

In her candid face, that was incapable of serving as 
the mask for duplicity, he saw not the. faintest trace of 
any knowledge of the cryptograph, but the reading of 
the old story of her race, familiar though it had been to 
her for years, had affected her powerfully ; and when 
she raised her eyes at the concluding word and fixed 
their gaze on Clarence Stanley, there was in their 
expression a searching intensity that thrilled him as he 
had never yet been thrilled by the look of any woman. 
Dolores was not aware of this look, but in her mind 
was a dim, unformed desire to warn this man, whose 
happiness was so dear to Polly Hamilton, of a danger 
that might at some time overtake him with the inevi- 
table retribution of eternal justice, as it had overtaken 
his prototype ; and she would have been shocked and 
horrified could she have known the interpretation, so 
flattering to his own wishes, that Stanley chose to put 
on that look from her deep, dark luminous eyes. 

As for Polly Hamilton, although she declared that 
the Mendoza Legend was just as interesting as a printed 
story, her mind had been wholly given up to the happy 
thought that she was now the betrothed wife of the 
man she loved, and that blissful idea colored every- 
thing she heard and saw with its own rosy glow. 

“ Well, he was not a pleasant person, that ancestor of 
yours, Clarence,” she said. And as Stanley turned 
toward her she met the triumphant fire of his glance, 
and naturally enough read in it the ardor of his love for 
herself — and she colored deeply with answering love 
and happiness. 

The blush recalled to Stanley what he had already 
forgotten ; and he thought with visible impatience : 

What a fool I have been to entangle myself, worse 


152 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


than I already was, with Polly Hamilton. I can win 
this beautiful Dolores— women are all alike ; and with 
her and the Mendoza treasure I shall be a second Monte 
Cristo.” 

But to Polly it seemed as if her last words had 
unwittingly offended her lover ; and she hastened to 
add : 

“But it is so long ago, Clarence, that it doesn’t 
matter. Fancy being able to trace one’s ancestry back for 
four hundred years ! Although that is nothing for you, 
for I suppose the Windermere ancestry is still older.” 

“ That goes back to the Norman Conquest, of 
course — but then the Mendozas were centuries old in 
noble descent before Columbus was born. If that is 
anything to be congratulated on, the family on both 
sides is extremely ancient.” 

“ Well, I don’t know that it is,” said republican Mary 
Hamilton. “ One must have had many queer ancestors 
in eight or ten centuries. And if we inherit mental 
peculiarities, as we do physical characteristics, it is no 
wonder that you and Rita should be unlike other 
people.” 

“ Am I so unlike other people, Polly ? In what way ?” 

“Just in being handsomer and more delightful than 
any other man in the world !” exclaimed Polly, for the 
moment forgetting that they were not alone. 

But this open admiration, coupled with a manner of 
having entire possession of him, did not suit Clarence 
Stanley at all. And he shrugged his shoulders with a 
disdainful coolness that caused the frank and outspoken 
girl a feeling of keen chagrin. 

“ I have shocked him !” she thought. “ Oh, dear, if 
he should think me forward or unwomanly — what shall 
I do ? I forgot — ” 

She turned in confusion toward Dolores. 


POLLY'S ENGAGEMENT. 


153 


“Why don’t you ask me in what way you are unlike 
other people, Rita ?” she said hurriedly. 

“ Because I know what you would say,” said Dolores, 
gently. “Your loving heart sees only goodness and 
grace and beauty in all your friends, and you are frank 
enough to tell them so, even to their faces — I know you 
of old, dear.” 

Mary Hamilton thanked her with a quick glance of 
gratitude. 

“Of course, I would have flattered you in just the 
same way that I did Mr. Stanley and she looked 
toward him with a comic emphasis on his name. “ But 
besides being lovelier and sweeter than any other woman 
in the world, Rita, you seem to have inherited other 
peculiarities from that Indian princess or, perhaps, from 
the little Dolores whose name you bear.” 

“ Yes, I have,” answered Dolores, promptly. “ I have 
always felt as if that girl — the child grown to woman- 
hood — had hovered about me in spirit as a guardian- 
angel.” 

“ What a pretty idea !” said Polly. “ I am glad you 
put it that way. I was half prepared to have you inform 
us that you were the re-incarnation of the first Dolores 
Mendoza.” 

“ I have no such unlikely beliefs,” said Dolores, gravely. 

“ But I don’t know why I may not be a reproduction 
of that Dolores, a true descendant, designed by fate to 
work out the just vengeance of wrong and treachery.” 

“Oh, dearest Rita,” exclaimed Polly, laughing out- 
right, “ don’t be too serious about it. According to that 
story, your Indian-princess ancestor was a kind of pos- 
sessed woman, like the spirit-mediums of the present 
day. Did you ever see a medium ? There was a friend 
of mamma's in San Francisco who was half crazy on the 
spiritualistic philosophy, as she called it, and she was 


154 


THE SPANISH TKEASTJRE. 


forever consulting the mediums and the spirits. There 
are more mediums to the square mile in San Francisco 
than in any other city in the Union, and every one of 
them has an Indian ‘ control.’ I never heard of an 
Indian who hadn’t an Indian control, and I used to 
wonder greatly at the number of controlling Indian 
spirits. But now I see a reason for it. The mediums 
are all descended from that extraordinary princess. In 
the course of four hundred years she must have had 
many thousands of descendants, and she has provided 
each one of them with an Indian control.” 

Dolores, who had been listening with a face of great 
seriousness, suddenly burst into irrepressible laughter. 

“ I think you are perfectly ridiculous, Maruja,” she 
said, in a provoked tone. I don’t know anything about 
spirit-mediums. I have heard mamma speak of them, 
but she had a horror of their wicked lies and cruel 
fraud. But I can see no reason in the world why the 
spirits of those who have loved us in this life should not 
be near us to comfort us after death has parted them 
from us, when our thoughts are lifted high enough to 
reach them. I don’t like jesting about such subjects ; 
they are too sacred for laughter. Any way, I am not a 
medium and I have no Indian control.” 

“ But you have, Lorita.- Either the princess or her 
daughter has taken you in charge. I would say the 
beautiful Anacaona — the Golden Flower. Such a splen- 
did name for a control, and very taking.” 

“You are incorrigible!” exclaimed Dolores, as she 
gathered up the loose leaves of her manuscript and 
folded them together. “ I shall be sorry I read my 
little story if you are going to turn it into ridicule.” 

“ Polly is a wicked girl,” said Stanley, quickl)^ 
“ But I am grateful to you beyond words. Cousin 
Dolores. All we Mendozas have heard something, now 


Polly’s engagement. 155 

and then, of our singular ancestry, but I have never so 
thoroughly understood it as I do now. Evidently, your 
father knew more of it than the rest of us, and perhaps 
he could have carried it even further than he has done 
in that story. Of course, it is understood that the little 
Dolores, with all those wonderful gems sewed up in the 
seams of her garments, was carried away from the 
island before the upheaval of the earthquake and the 
destruction of the Indian city in the volcanic eruption.” 

“Oh, yes,” answered Dolores, carelessly. “ No doubt 
she reached the Spanish ships in safety, and, having 
been taken to Spain, it is possible that the sailors 
hunted up Pedro’s other child, Raphael. The brother 
and sister must have grown to manhood and woman- 
hood, and among their descendants there may be many 
still living besides us two ; but my father was the true 
heir to the great Mendoza treasure, for he alone pos- 
sessed the secret to it, which he inherited from his 
father.” 

Stanley almost betrayed himself by his quickly sup- 
pressed exclamation at these unexpected words. But 
Dolores, who had not been looking at him, was quite 
unconscious of the effect she had produced ; and, hav- 
ing now carefully tied up the roll of manuscript, she 
rose to leave the room. 

“ But this treasure ! What was it ? Where is it ? 
Do you know anything of it ?” exclaimed Stanley, with 
an eagerness he vainly strove to disguise. 

“ I know nothing of it,” said Dolores, indifferently, 
“ except that it is hidden somewhere in the Santiago 
Canyon, where my father died and where he now lies 
buried. It is a very great treasure, I have heard 
mamma say, of fabulous value in gold and precious 
stones, among them some of these very gems that Pedro 
and the Gold Flower sewed into the garments of my 


156 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


little namesake. But I take no interest in it. My 
father lost his life in quest of it and died broken-hearted 
without finding it. My mother lies in a nameless grave, 
bestowed partly by charity, and I think I should be 
willing to give up my claim to it for the privilege of 
burying her ashes in the grave of the husband who 
adored her. But,” she added mockingly, this Colum- 
bian year is to be an eventful one for Americans. Who 
knows but it may also reveal the hiding-place of the 
Mendoza treasure. It was prophesied, long ago, that 
it would be unearthed at the close of the four hundred 
years, and the name of the discoverer was given as 
Dolores Mendoza ; but in this great country there may 
be many of that name, although I know of only one.” 

She bowed slightly, with a smile on her lips but an 
inscrutable look in her eyes, and left the room, while 
Stanley gazed after her, his heart beating wildly and 
her words ringing, like strange music, in his ears. 

“ Clarence !” said the voice of Polly Hamilton close 
beside him, but in tones so low and timid the sound did 
not reach him. As Dolores left the room, Polly rose 
quickly and hurried toward her lover ; and when he did 
not turn to her, even in answer to that timid but impas- 
sioned utterance of his name, she went still closer to 
him, and laying her hand upon his arm, she said again : 
“Clarence !” 

Stanley turned and said sharply : 

“ Ah ! Polly — is it you ?” 

“ Yes, dear. Are you angry with me ?” 

“ Angry ? For what ?” And then, with an effort, he 
brought his thoughts back to Polly Hamilton ; and, 
remembering, he understood her. 

“ Why should I be angry with you, Polly ?” he said 
with assumed gentleness. 


Polly’s engagement. 


157 


“ You seem annoyed that Rita should know about 
—about — ” 

“ About what ?” said Stanley, cruelly, seeing that she 
hesitated and did not know how to put her thought in 
words. 

“ About our engagement,” said Polly, blushing furi- 
ously, and with a terrible sense of being forced to appear 
forward and almost indelicate, and yet with a feeling 
that she must understand this man, who seemed deter- 
mined to trifle with her, even if it killed her with shame 
to force the truth from him. 

“ Oh — our engagement I” said Stanley, softly ; and 
thinking as he said so : “ Of course, she considers it 

an engagement. Why shouldn’t she ? And I dare not 
offend her, for papa Hamilton could be a rough cus- 
tomer if he chose. Besides, I cannot afford to throw 
over pretty Polly just yet.” 

All this passed through the mind of Clarence Stanley 
in the brief instant that served to show him Mary Ham- 
ilton’s tremulous, quivering lips and tear-wet eyes im- 
ploringly raised to his ; and, with an instantaneous 
change of manner, he caught her in his arms and drew 
her close to his heart. 

Darling Polly ! Forgive me !” he exclaimed. “ I 
was for the moment quite absent-minded and carried 
away by the thought of that extraordinary girl and the 
strange story she had just read to us. Of course, I am 
not angry. How could any one ever be angry with 
you, Polly } But, since you speak of it, perhaps it will 
be better to say nothing of our — our engagement— for 
the present, neither to Dolores nor to any one else. At 
least, until I have spoken to your father. Perhaps, 
when he knows what a shocking bad ancestry I have, 
he may not be willing to give his little girl into my 
keeping.” 


158 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


Mary laughed softly and rested her head on his 
shoulder. 

“ And you, Polly — don’t you feel afraid to trust your- 
self to the descendant of Pedro Mendoza ? How if I 
should be the re-incarnation of that wicked traitor ?” 

“ Clarence !” said Polly, in a voice sweet with indig- 
nant reproach. 

“ Well,” thought Clarence, “if other things fail, old 
Hamilton is worth I know not how many millions, and 
Polly is really a very charming little girl.” 

He drew her closer within his arms, and, as he stooped 
over her, he kissed her several times, and didn’t even 
try to cheat himself into the belief that it was accidental, 
for there was now a settled purpose in his love-making. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS. 

During the half-hour that Clarence Stanley passed 
with Polly Hamilton, and while her hand lay clasped in 
his and her eyes and ears drank in his looks and words, 
he had followed out a course of reasoning somewhat as 
follows : 

“ So long as Polly is satisfied by my devotion, I can 
come and go as I please, which will give me time to 
study Dolores and to gain the power over her so essen- 
tial to the success of my plans ; and when that is accom- 
plished and it becomes necessary to break with Polly, 
the quarrel can be made to originate with her by rous- 
ing her jealousy toward her friend. Should it ever 
become necessary to return to Polly, it will be easy for 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS. 


159 


me to make my peace, and should other and more agree- 
able plans turn out satisfactorily, I have simply to keep 
away from her and refuse all overtures of a friendly 
character if such should be made.” 

As he returned to his hotel, Stanley felt that his day 
had been well spent ; and when he reached his room, 
he placed the cryptograph before him with his transla- 
tion of it, and by the light of the story he had so recently 
heard, he felt that it was all clear to him. 

“ The Gold Flower,” he thought — “ that was the name 
of the princess, and this picture of the Indian woman 
represents her. Anacaona, with the Indian arrow 
through the word ; again the Flower of Gold. I see 
that Dolores is superstitious and full of spiritualistic 
fancies, though she doesn’t know it. I must affect to 
sympathize and to believe in the guardian-spirit busi- 
ness and all the rest of it ; that will give me an influence 
over her. Then the mesmeric power ; I must not for- 
get that. There is really something in it, and if I can 
but use it on her with the same effect as on old Van, my 
fortune is made and the girl is mine, to do with as I 
please. What a beauty she is ; and already she regards 
me in quite a different way from what she did at first. 
She knows nothing of men and little enough of women, 
least of all, of herself. Wrapt in poverty, sorrow and 
devotion to her mother, she is as inexperienced as a 
child ; her heart is as a sheet of white paper on which 
no man has yet traced the first letter of his name. Clar- 
ence, my friend, be it your pleasing pastime to place 
thereon your full image and superscription.” 

And with a triumphant smile, Stanley once more 
locked away the cryptograph and his interpretation of 
it. Then, as he caught up his hat, there came a quick 
knock on the door, which was immediately opened in 


160 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


answer to his response, and Professor Henri Van Tassel 
entered. 

He was so changed, and the change was so great an 
improvement, that Stanley did not at the first glance 
recognize him. He was still pale, but his thin face was 
no longer cadaverous, and though there was in his man- 
ner the same air as of submission to a master, it was 
a willing bondage, more than willing — almost joyous. 
His clothes, from his jaunty hat to the tips of his polish- 
ed shoes, were new, and even the smile with which he 
greeted Stanley’s surprise was bright and fresh. 

“ Halloa, old fellow ! Is it really you ? You have 
come in good time. I was just about to dine. Come on, 
and we will make a night of it.” And together this 
strangely assorted couple set forth. 

Early on the next morning, Polly Hamilton received 
by the hand of a messenger the following brief note : 

“ Polly, dearest, may I bring an old friend of mine to 
call on you this afternoon ? He may not interest you, 
perhaps he may even bore yon, but he is a poor fellow 
to whom fate has not been over kind, and I should be 
glad to put a little sunshine into his life if I might. But 
if you would rather not know him, don’t be a bit shy 
about saying so. 

“ Ever yours, Clarence.” 

“ The idea of asking leave to bring any friend of his 
here !” said Polly Hamilton to her mother, who was 
looking over her shoulder while she read Stanley’s 
note. “ But it is so nice of him, too, and I like it. I 
suppose it is a remnant of the Old World punctilious- 
ness that makes him so particular, mamma. And he 
likes English phrases, too, I have noticed, or perhaps 
he uses them unawares.” Polly suddenly lapsed into 


HIS HAND SOUGHT HIS DAGGER .”— rUfje 148 










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51 >- • 




THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS. 


161 


silence, almost fearing- she had said too much already, 
and wishing that Clarence hadn’t asked her to be at all 
secret in regard to their engagement. 

“ But it will only be for a few days, anyway,” she 
thought, consoling herself with that reflection and 
hastening to write a line of answer to Stanley, to send 
back by the messenger. 

It is so like Clarence to wish every one else to bask 
in the sunshine of his own happiness,” she thought ; 
“ that is exactly how I feel myself ; and the only objec- 
tion to his friend is that I can’t have Clarence so 
entirely to myself as if he were coming alone. But no 
matter. Lorita will engage his friend’s attention, per- 
haps, and it will really amount to the same thing.” 
And that was how it came to pass that when Mr 
Stanley, accompanied by Professor Henri Van Tassel, 
called on Miss Hamilton and the Senorita Mendoza, 
Dolores found herself acting the part of hostess to the 
stranger while Polly and Stanley sat by each other in a 
distant corner and were openly devoted to each other ; 
at least Polly was a little more effusive than usual and 
so happy that she did not observe that Clarence only 
smiled and placidly accepted her evident preference 
for his society while he observed carefully the manner 
of Dolores and Van Tassel toward each other. 

From the moment of first meeting this stranger 
Dolores felt herself penetrated with a feeling of pity 
and protection toward him. What Stanley had shrewdly 
said to himself in regard to her lack of experience and 
knowledge of mankind was singularly true. In her 
isolated and filially devoted life she had scarcely been 
aware of the world around her ; and on the days when 
she had been engaged in the fashionable cloak-room, 
displaying handsome garments on her slender and ele- 
gant figure, her mind had lived in a world of its own 


162 


THE SPANISH TEEASIJEE. 


instead of observing and studying the people around 
her. But what Stanley was not capable of understand- 
ing about Dolores when he complacently put his com- 
prehension of her into form was that she possessed a 
faculty of intuition worth the experience of a long life, 
by which she read as in a mirror the true character of 
those with whom she was brought into close relations. 
This intuition now told her that the character of Van 
Tassel was originally good — by nature he was true, 
simple, childlike ; but his mind was unevenly balanced, 
his nervous system was a wreck, and he was morally so 
unstrung that he held himself irresponsible for the cir- 
cumstances of his life ; and, especially under the influ- 
ence of a dose of opium, complacently regarded him as 
the innocent victim of a cruel destiny. From the instant 
when he met her first glance — a glance so kind, encour- 
aging, almost maternal in its gentle protecti veness. Van 
Tassel felt that he had been born into a new world. 
There was between them some subtle bond of sympa- 
thy which neither could have explained, but Van Tas- 
sel knew in a moment that he had already seen the face 
of Dolores — yes, it was the same inspired and beautiful 
face that had recalled his spirit at the moment when, in 
Stanley’s room, but a couple of nights before, it had so 
nearly left his body forever. 

Stanley recalled those first words of Van Tassel when 
he was recovering from the mesmeric trance and, as he 
now furtively watched him, marveled if it could really 
be true that he had seen the face of Dolores, but at the 
same moment he smiled derisively and told himself it 
was all imagination — and then he turned to Polly and 
endeavored to give a little more attention to what she 
was saying. Try as he would, however, he could not 
keep his attention from wandering and his gaze from 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS. 


163 


returning to the other two at the further end of the 
room ; and at last he said abruptly : 

“ I must not tire my pretty cousin Dolores with too 
much of my friend Van Tassel, at least on a first visit. 
I think I will take him away now, Polly ; but if you will 
let me, I will return and dine with you this evening.” 

“ Do, Clarence — be sure to come. Mamma told me 
to ask you, but there is no need to hurry away now. 
Lorita does not seem in the least tired of your friend.” 

But Stanley would not accept the implied invitation 
to remain ; and as soon as he was in the street with 
Van Tassel he hastened to say : 

“Well, you seemed interested. Does the sefiorita 
strike you as being a genuine clairvoyant ?” 

Van Tassel, whose exaltation of spirit — for it was 
nothing less — had already left him, answered in a tone 
of dejection : 

“ Sefiorita Mendoza can never be anything but genu- 
ine in every way. I think she is a clairvoyant, an 
unusual and extraordinary one ; but you will never be 
able to control so high and pure a spirit. If you will 
take my advice, you will not make the attempt.” 

“ Rubbish ! Of course I will make the attempt and 
succeed, too ; it isn’t my way to fail. Already she is 
under my influence.” 

“ She feels your influence, she is not under it,” said 
Van Tassel, promptly. 

“ The same thing ; I’ll soon have her under it.” 

“ You will find it is not the some thing at all,” said 
Van Tassel, persistently. “ That girl has a soul like a 
deep, clear spring ; you may trouble it, as you may 
trouble pure water by throwing mud into it, but after 
a time the disturbance ceases, the mud sinks to the 
bottom, and the water is clear and pure as before.” 

“ Ah, thanks, so much for the comparison !” exclaimed 


164 


THE SPANISH TEEASURE. 


Stanley, in a flippant tone, while he thought : ‘‘Addle- 
headed fool ! He’s nothing but a half-crazy dreamer, 
and I am probably wasting time trying to learn any- 
thing from him.” But after some moments’ silence he 
suddenly spoke again : “ I say, Van, let us not quarrel 
about the sefiorita. You know by this time I don’t give 
up easily ; I am bound to get control of that girl, and if 
you have any secrets in your confounded hanky panky 
mesmeric business that you haven’t told me yet, just 
yield them up. Now, you are going to help me with 
this girl in every way in your power, aren’t you ?” 

Van Tassel turned fiercely, like some timid animal at 
bay, and his eyes gleamed with the frantic fury of weak- 
ness grown desperate. 

“ No !” he said hoarsely. “ No ! Not to save my 
soul from perdition, will I help you to do that girl a 
moment’s injury !” 

“ I don’t want to harm her, you fool I” exclaimed 
Stanley. For a moment he thought of brushing Van 
TaSvSel aside and out of his life forever ; but even as he 
looked at him, the professor began to tremble, the fierce 
light of defiance left his eyes, and he sighed feebly. 
“ Let’s say no more about it, Van,” said Stanley, with a 
smile. “ Come on over to the hotel ; I want to ask your 
help about something easier ; only about the crypto- 
graph, so you needn’t worry. I shall not speak of the 
sefiorita again.” 

Van Tassel sighed once more, but he could not refuse, 
even if he had wished to do so ; and the two walked on 
in silence till they were in the room of Clarence Stan- 
ley. 

Van Tassel sank helplessly into a chair and looked up 
at his captor — for so he felt him to be — with the fascin- 
ated gaze of the bird under the eye of the rattlesnake. 
Stanley answered with a cruel smile, and then raising 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS. 


165 


his hands, made swift downward passes before his vic- 
tim’s face, and in a few moments Van Tassel’s head lay 
back against the chair and he was unconscious. 

“ Fool !” muttered Stanley. “ Taken in your own 
trap ! Had you not defied me, I would not have used 
my power against you. From this time forth, refuse 
me nothing. Come here every day. When I need you, 
I will use you. When I need you not, I will send you 
away. In everything you are my slave. Bring me 
every book on mesmerism that you possess or know of. 
You shall have money for that and for everything I 
need, and for your own needs, also. Do you hear and 
understand ?” 

“ I hear and understand.” 

“ Do you obey ?” 

“ I obey.” 

Stanley laughed aloud, and then, mindful of his last 
experiment on the professor, he began at once to make 
the upward passes necessary to release him from the 
trance. This time he had no trouble, and he saw how 
much easier it would be each time the subject was 
brought under the hypnotic influence. Van Tassel’s 
face twitched and his eyelids quivered in the effort to 
unclose. 

“Awake!” said Stanley. And at the sound of his 
voice the professor opened his eyes to their fullest 
extent and sat up, looking terrified. 

“Oh, Clarence! What have you done?” he cried. 
“ I had your promise that you would only use this 
power for good.” 

vStanley’s laugh was almost pleasant, he was so 
entirely satisfied with himself. 

“ I keep my promise,” he said. “ And now go home. 
Van. I am done with you for to-day.” 

Van Tassel rose and, groping blindly for his hat, half 


166 


THE SPANISH TREASUKE. 


staggered toward the door. A cold dew of terror was 
on his face, he understood the full horror of his posi- 
tion SO entirely as he asked his own shrinking soul to 
what crimes, what evils, what monstrous acts he was, 
perhaps, committed by the unbending will and cruel 
heart of the man beside him. 

Good-bye, Van,” said Stanley, merrily. 

It was Clarence Stanley’s hand that opened the door, 
and, as the trembling, staggering man slouched out, the 
same hand closed the door after him, and Stanley said 
softly : 

“Poor old Van ! But there must be something in 
this power more than I can understand, to make one 
man the helpless tool of another’s will. I like it well ; 
and, next, I shall try it on the beautiful Dolores.” 

Stanley dined at the Hamilton’s that evening, accord- 
ing to his promise ; and Polly thought he had never been 
so charming since she had first known him. Even to 
her own heart Dolores said that she was, perhaps, 
prejudiced ; he could not be the base and dangerous 
man that she felt him to be. If Mary, who was as pure 
and innocent as the dawn of a bright, new day, if her 
mother, who loved her, and had the knowledge of 
maturity and experience to help her, and if Mr. Hamil- 
ton, who had lived in close contact with the world — all 
chose to accept Stanley without doubt or question, who 
was she that she should set a mere feeling, a prejudice, 
against their united opinion ? She crushed down the 
intuition that still declared against him and gave her- 
self up to the influence of those about her. But she 
knew that she was at war with herself. 

Days passed and lengthened into weeks. Stanley spent 
the greater part of the time at the home of the Hamil- 
tons, ostensibly with Mary, but quite as much with 
Dolores ; for she was constantly present ; and the even- 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS. 


167 


ings, after his return to his own room, and often far into 
the night, were given to the study of works on mesmer- 
ism and other branches of occult science with which 
the professor had furnished him. For a time Van 
Tassel had come to him every day, always bringing 
some new book ; and for a time this had greatly amused 
Stanley, as proving the mesmeric power in which he 
held his slave. But gradually this power waned — for 
reasons well understood by Van Tassel but not even 
suspected by Clarence Stanley. At last, the professor 
ceased to come, and, for a time, his master did not even 
observe this ; his entire being, every faculty of his 
mind, for good or evil, had become absorbed in the 
thought of Dolores Mendoza and the possibility that she 
might love him. For the first and last and only time 
in his life he was under the dominion of an absorbing 
passion for a woman, and, as yet, he did not know it. 
Nor did Mary Hamilton know it or even suspect it ; and 
this was not surprising, either, although, as she had 
once told Dolores, she was naturally jealous. 

Stanley’s love for Dolores had grown up so gradually 
under her eyes that not the least thought of its exist- 
ence had yet come to her ; and the varying moods of 
Dolores, her excitement, her gayety,her dejection, suc- 
ceeded often by almost frivolous hilarity ; her days of 
sadness and profound melancholy, interspersed by hours 
of merriment, sarcastic bitterness and playful sweetness 
— caused her the less surprise because she had no 
previous acquaintance with Dolores and could never 
fully know what was the normal condition of this 
unknown, mysterious but altogether charming and 
lovable stranger. Sometimes she thought about these 
things, but not often, for her time was almost wholly 
occupied since her engagement,” as she always called 
the relation existing between herself and Clarence 


168 


THE SPANISH TREASURE, 


Stanley ; and when she did think seriously about Dolo- 
res, she always ended with a conclusion somewhat in 
these words : 

“ Whatever she does or thinks or says, she is always 
lovable and sweet and good. Darling Rita ! She is the 
best, the dearest and the most beautiful creature in the 
whole world, and only to live in the same house with 
her is a joy and a blessing.” 

True to the half-formed promise she had made to her 
lover, Polly had said nothing to her parents about her 
engagement to Stanley ; but she was perfectly well 
aware that both her father and mother regarded the sit- 
uation in precisely the same way as she regarded it ; 
and already they had fallen into the habit of saying : 
“ When Polly and Clarence are married we will do ” so 
and so ; and after “ Polly’s marriage it will be time 
enough ” to arrange this or the other affair that might 
happen to be under discussion. 

The first time this happened in Stanley’s presence he 
had started, guiltily, and turned with some appearance 
of constraint, at which Polly had blushed and laughed, 
and then shaken her pretty head. The next time such 
an allusion had been made Stanley had merely smiled, 
as “ the easiest way out of it,” he told himself ; and after 
that his marriage with Polly Hamilton, although not 
formally announced, became talked about as a matter 
of course. Mary Hamilton was very happy in her 
engagement, and her happiness flowed on all about her, 
and she had taken herself quite seriously to task for her 
neglect of Bertha Sefton. To remedy this she had first 
returned the latter’s call, and then, accompanied by 
Dolores, had made her former intimate friend a long 
visit. On this occasion Miss Gaye had been present, 
and notwithstanding the uncomplimentary opinion she 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS. 


169 


had expressed of the charming Olive, Polly Hamilton 
even included her in the warmth of her new feelings. 

Nothing could have suited Olive Gaye better. She 
was at pains to respond to Polly’s polite advances with 
all the tact and grace she possessed, and the result was 
that the four young girls very often exchanged visits, 
and soon fell into the custom of informal evenings 
together, which were nearly always spent at Polly’s 
house, because it was there that Clarence Stanley made 
his call ; and, as hostess. Miss Hamilton was constantly 
“ at home.” 

“ Fate and I walk together, hand in hand,” Olive 
Gaye had once said, in a moment of supreme egotism ; 
but now, as often before, there seemed to be some 
excuse for the remark. She had wished to meet Clar- 
ence Stanley, and she had then wished for opportunity 
to study him at her leisure and under the most favor- 
able circumstances ; and now the very cards she would 
have chosen seemed carefully selected and placed in 
her hand, while she had simply to play them out, one 
by one. 

“ I hope Miss Sefton and Olive Gaye are not coming 
to-night, Polly ?” said Stanley, one evening, as he 
accompanied his fiancee from the dinner-table to the 
drawing-room. “ I think I should like to have you to 
myself occasionally.” 

“ Oh, Clarence !” exclaimed Polly, pleased by the 
sentiment, but fearing that she might have to disap- 
point it, “ I am so sorry ! I thought you liked them.” 

“ I like Miss Sefton well enough. Her friend is one 
of the deep kind. I don’t like that sort of woman.” 

“ Strange, now,” said Polly, “ I felt like that myself 
the first time I met Olive ; but I got over it long ago. 
She just adores you, Clarence ; she is never done prais- 
ing you, and,” she added, naively, “ I think that must 


170 


THE SPANISH TEE A SURE. 


be why I have grown to like her so much. But she 
speaks of going to Newport soon, and then we won’t 
see so much of her. They are coming in to-night, she 
and Bertha ; and they are going to bring a friend with 
them, a Mrs. Helmholtz. Such a beautiful woman ! 
Hark ! That may be them now.” 

And as she spoke, there was the sound of the outer 
door opening and closing, and then a buzz of girlish 
voices, among which Stanley recognized that of Olive 
Gaye. He turned away impatiently and walked to the 
farther end of the room as Mary Hamilton advanced to 
meet her friends. 

But Olive Gaye quickly followed him and, slipping 
her hand within his arm, drew him, an unwilling cap- 
tive, back toward Mary, Bertha and a third — a tall, 
slender woman, whose face was turned fiom him, but 
the lines of whose graceful neck and shoulders smote 
him with recognition like an electric shock, even before 
she moved slowly round and bringing her face toward 
him, exclaimed sharply : 

“Carlos! My Carlos !” 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE LADY OF THE FAN. 

Olive Gaye, whose hand still rested within Stanley’s 
arm, had felt that electric thrill which had shot along 
his nerves, making him for a brief time almost rigid. 
His other arm moved convulsively, and his white hand 
went quickly toward his mouth, and for a second or two 
twisted his blonde mustache. Beyond that, there was 


THE LADY OF THE FAN. 


171 


not the faintest sign of agitation in his pale face, not a 
tremor of the eyelid ; nothing but blank, questioning 
amazement in the look that met the beautiful, wild eyes 
of Celestine Helmholtz. 

“ Oh, Carlos ! Carlos ! Do you not know me ? Am 
I so changed in a few short years, while you are not a 
day older — not a day, not an hour ! Just the same, and 
I love you the same, my Carlos, in spite of all ! They 
told me you were dead ! Did 1 not see your dead face 
and weep over it, and forgive all, all ! As I do now, 
when I find you alive after all these years ! Will you 
not speak to me ?” 

She sprang toward him and would have caught him 
in her arms, but Stanley stepped aside, drew his arm 
from Olive’s clinging fingers and held up his hand, as it 
seemed, in the effort to defend himself, gently but reso- 
lutely, from the grasp of a mad woman. 

“ Pardon me, madam,” he said, with dignity. “ It is 
easy to see that there is some mistake here ; and flatter- 
ing as your words are, I must entirely disclaim all right 
to listen to them, as they are evidently meant for some 
other person.” 

At this, Mary Hamilton recovered her voice ; and 
her senses, which had almost left her, between horror, 
fright and amazement, came back to her. She was as 
pale as ashes, and her voice trembled pitifully, but as 
she glanced at her lover and met his reassuring smile, 
she said with considerable self-possession : 

“ You have made a strange mistake, Mrs. Helmholtz; 
you are, perhaps, the victim of a singular resemblance ; 
we all know such things occur. This gentleman is the 
Honorable Clarence vStanley ;* his name is not Carlos, 
and I am quite sure that you never saw him before this 
moment.” 


172 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


“‘Clarence Stanley!’” repeated Mrs. Helmholtz; 
“ ‘the Honorable Clarence Stanley !' ” 

She looked at him, bewildered, while her face twitched 
with emotion, as she tried to remember the night at the 
opera and the fragments of conversation she had then 
heard from Olive Gaye and Bertha Sefton. Yes, had 
she not tried afterward to cheat herself into the belief 
that it was a wonderful, a terrible resemblance ? For 
how could it be otherwise, when she had kissed the 
dead face of her own Carlos and held him, dead, to her 
frantic, maddened heart ? But, now that she beheld 
this living likeness of him, how could she believe him 
dead ? Could such resemblances exist ? Had he not 
rather come to life again, and was she not being imposed 
upon once more, cruelly, wickedly ? Oh, more cruelly 
and wickedly than ever before ? Her senses seemed 
leaving her. She felt that her mind could not bear 
these successive shocks ; and, clasping her head with 
both her hands, as if to steady her brain for a final 
effort, she fixed her eyes once more on Stanley’s face, 
as if she would read to the bottom of his soul. He 
looked back at her wonderingly, but with a mocking 
smile. 

“ Tell me, sir,” she said, in a voice of touching en- 
treaty, “ is it indeed true that you have never seen me 
before to-night ?” 

“ Never, so far as I can remember,” said Stanley, 
adding gallantly : “ And no one could forget you, 

madam, who had ever been happy enough to see you 
even once.” 

Mrs. Helmholtz sighed deeply. 

“ I must beg that you will all pardon me, then. I am 
so sorry to have made a scene, but monsieur’s vSo like — 
Ah ! — so much like one who was very dear ! I cannot 
bear it ! Olive, make my excuses. Miss Hamilton will 


THE LADY OF THE FAN. 


173 


forgive me. I must go home. I am so overcome — so 
ill !” 

Polly, who saw that the emotion and suffering caused 
by this singular scene was only too real, and who was, 
indeed, greatly overcome herself, hastened to accept the 
hurried excuses of her guests, and in a few moments 
they were gone, and she was left alone with her lover- 
alone, as they had been only ten or fifteen minutes 
before, but staring at each other, as it all that had hap- 
pened in the interval had been a vision, a dream, a 
nightmare ! 

When they had reached the street, Olive Gaye 
remembered that the carriage which had brought them 
to the Hamiltons had been ordered to return at least 
two hours later ; but she was equal to much more 
serious emergencies. And it was fortunate that she 
was so, for Mrs. Helmholtz was ill from agitation and 
Bertha Sefton was completely dazed and could only 
grumble helplessly. 

“ Oh, do be quiet, Bertha !” said Olive at last. “ We 
are not children to be lost in the street even if we 
should have to walk home. Ah ! There is an empty 
carriage !” 

And with quick decision she signaled the driver, and 
in two minutes they were all inside the vehicle. 

“ I told the man to drive first to your house, Bertha,” 
explained Miss Gaye, “that being the nearest; and 
then I will take Mrs. Helmholtz home and stay with 
her a little while, till she recovers from the conse- 
quences of this unpleasant blunder.” 

Mrs. Helmholtz, who was weeping silently, put out 
one hand and catching that of Olive Gaye pressed it 
gratefully ; and the latter returned the pressure. A 
few minutes more brought them in front of Bertha’s 


174 


THE SPANISH TREASHRE. 


home, and having- seen her safe inside of it, Olive gave 
the address of Mrs. Helmholtz to the driver. 

“ And now, dear,” she said to her companion, “ do 
try and calm yourself, or your husband will never 
again intrust you to my charge.” 

“ Oh, I don’t care !’' said Mrs. Helmholtz, pettishly. 
“ Besides, he won’t be home till midnight, and I must 
cry ; it rests me.” 

Olive made no reply, but she knew that her compan- 
ion’s tears were well-nigh exhausted ; and though her 
acquaintance with the beautiful Celestine could be 
counted by days only, she felt that she understood her 
sufficiently to be quite equal to all the management of 
her that would be necessary. 

Passionate, and fierce in her passions as an angry 
child, but superficial and changeable, she was already 
regretting that she had not remained at Mary Hamil- 
ton’s, in order that she might have learned something 
more of this man who was and yet was not her Carlos — 
the one being in the world who had ever made a last- 
ing impression on her shallow nature. 

“And yet, why should I weep?” she exclaimed 
presently. “ If he is Carlos, he cares no more for me. 
He will not acknowledge me ; and if he is not Carlos, 
why, fhen he is dead long years ago, and I wept for 
him then ; and I weep for him always when I remem- 
ber. But of what avail ? It only spoils my eyes and 
gives me a red face. I will wait ! I will wait and see ! 
If it is Carlos — Well, perhaps I can compel him to 
remember !” 

Olive Gaye answered nothing ; but she listened and 
thought, and every word sank into her memory. 

The carriage rolled on rapidly, and Miss Gaye’s 
thoughts, as she reviewed the events of the past few 
weeks, moved even more quickly, while the tears and 


THE LADY OF THE FAN. 


175 


biurmurs of Mrs. Helmholtz presently subsided en- 
tirely. 

The acquaintance of Olive with the beautiful Lady 
of the Fan, as she had called her in her thoughts, was 
one of those incidents which seemed to justify the girl’s 
reliance on fate. She had desired intensely to learn 
something of the stranger and, if possible, to know her 
personally ; and for several days after the night at the 
opera she had made inquiries in every direction, but had 
failed to trace the object of her thoughts, till, one even- 
ing, her uncle, in whose family she lived, said : 

“ An amusing thing happened to me to-day. A gen- 
tleman came into the office to ask me if I could tell him 
where he could get a fan mended. It was a beautiful 
affair of lace and mother-of-pearl, and I was amused by 
his anxiety about it. His excuse for coming to me was 
that he was a stranger in New York, and, as I am his 
banker, he came to me for advice. I gave it ; but my 
advice was that he should buy a new fan and throw the 
old one away. That, he said, was what he had wished 
to do ; but madame, his wife, would have no new fan ; 
nothing but the broken one, mended, would serve. And 
when I subsequently saw the lady, I didn’t wonder that 
a man might be willing to do very silly things to please 
her. I never saw such a beauty !” 

“ Oh, uncle,” exclaimed Olive, “ I think I know about 
that fan ; and the lady is a beauty, as you say. Tell 
me all you know about them. I will call on the lady, if 
you know her address, and have her fan mended. 
There will be a poetic fitness about it, for Bertha Sefton 
and myself are responsible for the breaking of the fan.’» 
And Miss Gaye gave her uncle a brief but highly colored 
description of the incident at the opera. 

Well, yes, Olive, I suppose you may call on Mrs. 
Helmholtz— Von Helmholtz, the name really is, but it 


176 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


makes it harder to say ; and he has a baronet’s coronet 
or crown, or whatever it is called, engraved on his card. 
As a rule, I don’t like that kind of foreigner ; but the 
man has first-rate letters, and I think he’s a good fel- 
low, except a little crazy about his wife and very jeal- 
ous. I think you may call, however.” 

“ Thanks, uncle ; I shall,” said Olive. And before 
the next day she had made the acquaintance of Mrs. 
Helmholtz, and by the end of a week they were inti- 
mate friends. Like most of Olive Gaye’s friendships 
the intimacy was all on one side ; she listened while the 
other talked. It did not take this shrewd young woman 
very long to fill the spaces in the conversation of Mrs. 
Helmholtz ; but she asked no direct question. In the 
first place, it was always possible that direct questions 
might not be answered ; and, besides, her passion for 
dramatic effect prompted her to “set the stage ” in such 
a way that the actors could not help taking up the cues 
and making the proper effect. Her success in the scene 
just enacted at the house of Mary Hamilton delighted 
her. 

“ He is a cool hand,” she thought, “ the Honorable 
Clarence. If I had not felt the shock go through him^ 
when he first saw Celestine, his effrontery would have 
imposed on me. What is the mystery between them ? 
But I need not ask. Celestine is wild to tell me all 
about it and I need only wait till we are alone in her 
room — Ah, here we are at the house. She must pay 
the carriage. I have forgotten my pocket-book. I 
have such a memory ! Ha ! Ha ! I always do forget 
my pocket-book,” 



CHAPTER XVI. 

A TELL-TALE PHOTOGRAPH. 

Mrs. Helmholtz amply justified Olive Gaye’s antici- 
pations, and by a judicious question occasionally and 
patient listening, she soon knew the mind of this 
superficial but fascinating young woman. 

It is seven years since I first met Carlos Mendoza,” 
she said, “ and I loved him from the hour I beheld him, 
as I shall love the memory of him to the last moment 
of my life. He loved me, too ; I shall always believe 
that in spite of everything — though he deceived me 
about our marriage, but I believe he was deceived about 
that, too — I have good reason for thinking that Carlos 
thought the man who married us was really a priest ; 
and if he had lived he would have made me his wife 
truly and lawfully. Of course, I had no one to fight for 
me, like you happy American girls with fathers and 
brothers, no one but a half-crazy adopted brother, who 
was not any relation to me at all. But he was good 
Henri, was — and no sister ever had a truer brother ; he 
believed in Carlos, too, and just worshiped him. I don’t 
know what has become of poor Henri Van Tassel ; but 
if he is still alive, he would fight for my rights against 
Carlos or any man. But Carlos is dead, of course, 
although that Mr. Stanley is so like him that he has 
made me lose my wits almost ; and even if he were still 
alive, it would be no use now, for I am married to 

[177] 


178 


THE SPANISH TKEASUEE, 


the Baron Von Helmholtz — and he is so jealous. If 
Carlos has come to life again he would kill us both. 
Tell me, cherie : Do you think it possible that in all the 
world two people should be so much alike as my Carlos 
and this Honorable Clarence ?” 

“It is certainly singular and unusual,” said Olive, 
in a meditative manner ; “ but, as Miss Hamilton said, 
‘there have been such cases.’ If your Carlos is dead, 
and you say that you saw him dead, that seems to set- 
tle it.” 

“ Oh, Dieu ! Yes, I saw him ! I kissed his cold lips 
and his golden hair and held his dear head against my 
heart !” exclaimed the excitable creature, and in a 
moment she was weeping frantically and wringing her 
hands. 

Olive waited for this paroxysm to wear itself out, and 
then said calmly : 

“ Can you tell me how it happened ?” 

“ It was a quarrel over cards !” sobbed Mrs. Helm- 
holtz. “ In that part of the world it is mostly quarrels 
over cards. It was in a mining- town in California. 
Henri Van Tassel (my brother, I always called him ; I 
should have told you that I was a poor waif, picked up 
on the plains by another French-Canadian family, who 
were making their way from Montreal to California 
across the continent, more than twenty years ago) — 
well, Henri, Carlos and myself had just reached this 
mining-town, where we were going to give our show. 
It consisted of sleight-of-hand tricks, singing and danc- 
ing. I did the singing and dancing, of course ; and as 
I was beautiful— more beautiful than I am now, for I 
was only seventeen — we always had big houses and 
plenty of money. The entertainment was called ‘ Pro- 
fessor Van Tassel’s Wonders of Magic but I was the 
real magic, and it was to see me dance that people 


A TELL-TALE PHOTOGRAPH. 


179 


came. But Henri supposed they came to see his won- 
ders of mesmerism and thought-reading and all such 
nonsense, because he was quite crazy on that subject 
and believed every word of it himself. After 1 left 
him, I guess he found out his mistake. It was at one 
of our shows that Carlos first saw me, and then he 
came every night. He was only a cow-boy, but his 
father had belonged to the real Spanish aristocracy ; 
his name was Mendoza, and there is a wonderful treas- 
ure belonging to the Mendoza family hidden some- 
where in California. That was what attracted Carlos 
to our show. He had heard of the mesmerism and 
clairvoyance and all that stuff, and he thought if there 
was any truth in it he might find out something 
through me ; but he soon saw that I was a fraud in that 
way, though he declared I was a perfect witch to him 
and had the magic of beauty, which was the only magic 
any man ever wanted in a woman. 

“ Ah, mon Dieu ! How he made love to me, and how 
I loved him ! We had been married nearly a year, when 
we reached the mining-town on the night I am going to 
tell you of ; the show was over, and we had just raked 
in the dust — I mean the money — you see how it takes 
me back to those days ! And I was waiting for Carlos. 
I was waiting for him in anger, too, for I had learned 
by this time that the man who had married us was not 
a real priest, and I was going to compel Carlos to do me 
justice or else never see me again ; and he would have 
done it, too, for I had a bag of gold, and Mendoza loved 
the yellow dust more than he loved me or God or even 
himself. But he came no more — ah, never more ! It 
was Henri and two other men that came before daylight 
in the morning, and laid down before me the bleeding 
corpse of my Carlos, stabbed through the heart with his 
own dagger that was still in the y^oViXiA— grand Dieu ! 


180 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


But I am nearly mad at the thought ! Could I have 
seen his murderer then, the same knife had killed him, 
too, but I never saw him ; none had seen him, and none 
had seen the quarrel but Henri ; only these three had 
been in the room, and Carlos had brought death on him- 
self, for he had cheated at the cards, and if the whole 
camp had been there none would have interfered ; for 
to cheat at cards, that was a capital crime. Well, we 
fled away in the early dawn, and we could not even bury 
his body ; but I saw him dead, Olive. Ah, cherie ! Dead, 
dead, though I saw him no more, for the dagger had 
gone through his heart till you could have touched the 
point on the other side ! But I couldn’t remember all 
that to-night, in a moment, when I seemed to see him 
face to face again, alive and well before me. The first 
time, that night at the opera, I forgot to think at all ; it 
was as if I had met his spirit in a dream. Then I began 
to remember ; and as he was so far away and I might 
be deceiving myself, I afterward persuaded myself it 
must have been a strange, a wonderful resemblance. 
And then I forgot once more and thought of my Carlos 
when I did think of him as dead, cold and ghastl}’, as I 
had seen him. To think of him so is very dreadful, 
therefore I try not to think of him at all. That is why, 
when I saw this Mr. Clarence Stanley, I was so over- 
whelmed — I forgot — and it seemed to me I saw once 
more my Carlos alive before me !” 

Olive Gaye was an attentive listener, not only because 
of her interest in the story, but because of the light it 
shed on the narrator’s character. There was a mixture 
of deep feeling and utter heartlessness in this fair speci- 
man of humanity that proved her quite a new type of 
woman, at least to Olive. 

“ It must be a most remarkable resemblance,” she 
said, “ I was at first inclined to agree with you, and I 


A TELL-TALE PHOTOGEAPH. 


181 


think that your first husband had been for some reason 
masquerading under a new name. But having listened 
to your story, I have to conclude, as you do, that it must 
be a very extraordinary but not at all impossible resem- 
blance. Now that you have told me the name of your 
Carlos, it is easy enough to understand. Mr. Stanley's 
family is related in some way to a Spanish family of 
Mendozas, and these family resemblances are often 
quite marvelous, and in the most distant cousins they 
are sometimes as great as between twin-brothers or 
sisters.” 

“ Are they so ?” asked Celestine, with the wondering 
simplicity of a child. “ I never heard of it ; but, of 
course, that would quite account for the whole mystery.” 

Olive regarded her for a moment with a positive 
feeling of envy ; her ingenuousness was so perfect and 
apparently genuine. 

“ You ought to have remained on the stage,” she 
thought. “ It is no wonder you were a valuable feature 
in the professor’s ‘ show.’ ” But aloud she said : 

“ And what became of your brother ? Did he also 
mourn for the loss of this wonderful Carlos ?” 

“ Oh, poor Henri ? Yes ! He was never the same 
again. I never knew what to make of him at all, but 
now he became more and more queer. Then he took 
to drink, and he used to be quite crazy with it, calling 
on me to forgive him, and saying he had brought ruin 
and shame on the little sister he loved — I never knew 
what he meant. But sometimes I thought he felt 
remorse because he couldn’t save Carlos from the man 
who killed him. At last I couldn’t stand it any longer, 
and I ran away. There was lots of money, and as it 
had been earned mostly through me of course 1 took it. 
But I knew Henri loved me like the best of brothers, 
and that he would have searched the whole world 


182 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


through to find me if he thought I was alive. So I 
fixed things so he would believe I had killed myself 
rather than live without Carlos — and sometimes now I 
even wish I had.” 

‘‘Oh, don’t say so!” exclaimed Olive. “You are 
happy now, and Mr. Helmholtz is a devoted husband.” 

“Yes — yes, too devoted,” said the baron’s wife, pet- 
tishly. “ If only he wouldn’t be so jealous, but some- 
times he fancies that Carlos isn’t dead at all, and he just 
all but drives me crazy. If he knew I had mistaken 
this Mr. Stanley for my first husband — ah, Dieu ! His 
life wouldn’t be safe from him. I must never see that 
Honorable Clarence again — because you see I don’t 
care for him, and the Baron von Helmholtz is a good 
husband. No man has ever loved me so truly, and just 
the same from the moment I first met him. It was in 
London, and I was on the way to Paris. You see I 
knew I was half French, and I wanted to get to my 
mother’s country. Well, he took me there, and he 
married me before all the world — he has spent a fortune 
to educate me and make a lady of me — he would dress 
me in cloth-of-gold and cover me with diamonds — there 
is nothing he wouldn’t do to please me, and if you think, 
dearest Olive, that I am not grateful, then 5^ou don’t 
know me at all. But I do wish he wouldn’t plague me 
with his jealous fancies, and I think I had better never 
see that Honorable Clarence any more.” 

“I quite think so, too,” said Olive, “and I’m sure 
Polly Hamilton will be entirely of the same opinion. 
You are too awfully handsome for any girl to like the 
idea of having you mistake her fiand for a former hus- 
band. As to the Honorable Clarence himself, well, I 
don’t believe any man could see you often without fall- 
ing in love with you, and that would be no end of trouble 
in this case. Oh, by the way, let me show you this 


A TELL-TALE PHOTOGRAPH. 


183 


photograph.” And she caught up a reticule which she 
had tossed into the nearest chair on entering the room. 
“ I have only recently met Mr. Stanley himself, but I 
knew his family quite well when I was in England. I 
had a letter to-day from one of the family.” 

While she spoke, she had drawn from the reticule 
a large envelope, containing a letter and a photograph. 
The latter she suddenly placed directly before the eyes 
of Mrs. Helmholtz, who, although she had been pre- 
pared for the picture, could not restrain a slight cry of 
mingled surprise and delight. 

“ Oh, Carlos ! My Carlos !” she exclaimed, snatching 
the photograph and pressing it to her lips. “ And I 
have no picture of him ! I dare not, for the baron 
would destroy it and kill me ; but I must have a copy 
of this one ! My beautiful Carlos ! And yet — ” 

She held the picture from her and then again closer 
than before, and an expression of disappointment slowly 
settled on her lovely features. 

“ It is not Carlos,” she said sadly. “ No ! Looking 
at it carefully, now I can see that it is not Carlos.” 

At these unexpected words, Olive could not have 
told whether she felt pleased or disappointed, and yet 
she had, unconsciously, hoped to hear something of the 
sort. 

“In wJiat does the difference consist?” she asked, 
taking the photograph and gazing intently at the 
pictured features. “ The living face seemed to you so 
very like that of your husband.” 

“ Yes ; but I can see the difference more clearly in 
the picture. These are not the eyes of my Carlos. Ah, 
if you had ever seen them, you could not forget them ! 
Poor Henri used to say they were the real magnetic 
eyes, and he often tried to persuade him to try to mes- 
merize. But Carlos had no faith in it at all and always 


184 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


made sport of the whole thing. Then these eyebrows 
are not so heavy as those of Carlos ; and, though it is 
difficult to tell in a picture, the face seems more blond, 
more fair. Of course, Carlos was blond and his mother 
was an Englishwoman ; that is how he came by his 
yellow hair and mustache ; but there was always a 
touch of the Spaniard in his pale-olive skin. But this 
is not a good picture of Mr. Stanley.” 

“ It is thought very excellent by his family, but it 
was taken a good many years ago, and he has lived in 
this country since he left England. That has changed 
him, and the sun, no doubt, has tanned his complexion. 
That would make him all the more like your Carlos 
and less like his picture.” 

“ Ah, he is so like, so very, very like,” sighed Mrs. 
Helmholtz, “ but the photograph — no, it is not like at 
all. I never could mistake the photograph for Carlos, 
at least after the first glance.” 

Olive returned the picture to its envelope and the 
envelope to the reticule. 

“ I must go home, dear Celeste,” she said, abruptly. 
“ I have been so wrapt up in your story and so full of 
sympathy, that I quite forgot how the time was flying. 
Well, what a painful evening I have given you, when I 
thought only how pleased you would have been to 
meet Polly Hamilton. But you must send me home in 
your carriage, dear, it is quite too late for me to ven- 
ture out alone.” 

“ Certainly,” and Celestine hastened to order the car- 
riage ; and, as Olive was troubled about the lateness of 
the hour, she hurried away with the briefest parting- 
words and embraces. 

All the way home her thoughts were engaged about 
the photograph of the Honorable Clarence Stanley. It 
had arrived at the very moment she was leaving home 


AN INTERESTING LETTER. 


185 


to call for Bertha and Mrs. Helmholtz ; and she had 
only taken time to tear open the envelope and to 
glance at the picture and a long, closely written letter 
from “ dear old Toddlekins." 

How slow that coachman drove ! How the horses 
seemed to crawl ! But, at last, the carriage stopped at 
her uncle’s house, and she flew upstairs to her own 
room ; but before she took time to read the letter, she 
took the photograph from its covering and her eyes, 
looking like two points of light, fixed their gleaming 
gaze upon it. 

“ Yes,” she breathed softly to herself, “ I thought I 
saw writing on it ; it is very fine, and the ink so 
faded, I can scarcely read it ; but — ^ah, yes ! The mag- 
nifying-glass.” 

She snatched a reading-glass from her desk and held 
it over the fine and faintly traced words : 

Clarence Stanley, to his dear friend, Milicent 
Fairfax.” 

“And yet!” exclaimed Miss Gaye, her cheeks 
flushed with triumph, “ I remember distinctly that the 
Honorable Clarence Stanley said to me, on that first 
occasion of our meeting each other, that he had neveV 
seen and did not know ‘ dear old Toddlekins.’ ” 


CHAPTER XVII. 

AN INTERESTING LETTER. 

For what seemed quite a long time. Miss Gaye con- 
tinued to gaze upon the photograph held so tightly 
between her two small white hands. Then she locked 


186 


THE SPANISH TEEASHEE. 


it carefully away in a drawer of her writing-desk, and 
she said to herself, with a smile : 

“ I am inclined to think, with Celestine Helmholtz, 
that Mr. Stanley’s photograph does not do him justice. 
He is very much handsomer ; and however remarkable 
may have been the wonderful, magnetic eyes of her 
dear Carlos, they could not have excelled in that 
respect the wonderful, dark, magnetic eyes of our Hon- 
orable Clarence Stanley.” 

She drew her letter from its envelope ; but interest- 
ing as she knew it would be and anxious as she was to 
know its contents, she held it for some moments 
unfolded, while her thoughts strayed away thousands of 
miles across the Atlantic, and she murmured with a 
smile : 

“ Dear old Toddlekins !” 

Miss Gaye’s correspondent was Miss Milicent Fairfax, 
“ the old-maid sister ” of Lady Appleby. 

Milicent Fairfax was an old maid who had never been 
young ; she had not the past to look back upon. From 
her earliest recollectionvS, she had felt old and looked 
old, and even at seven years of age she had heard her- 
self called “ that little old maid.” It was the source of 
indescribable bitterness to her ; and when Clarence 
Stanley, a young collegian, had called on her sister 
Bess to deliver some slight message from his brother, 
Lord Appleby, and had either purposely or accidently 
mistaken the old-maid sister for his brother’s pretty 
sweetheart, he had, in one moment and forever, won 
the heart of Miss Fairfax. She had never before really 
loved any one and never expected to give her heart a 
second time. 

When Clarence Stanley had said good-bye forever to 
his native land, and had called to see Milicent and actu- 
ally kissed her faded cheek, the joy and sorrow com- 


AN INTERESTING LETTER. 


187 


bined of that parting moment had nearly killed her. 
But she didn’t die. She lived that she might remember, 
during every moment of her future life, that this bril- 
liant young man had really kissed her, and that she 
might, the first thing when she awoke in the morning 
and the last when her eyes closed at night, look at his 
face, that held for her the glory of the world. She had 
never seen him again ; she had almost ceased to hope 
that she ever might ; and when Olive Gaye came to 
Windermere House as a guest. Miss Fairfax gave to her 
a love as peculiar and as deep as she had flung at the 
feet of Clarence. It began by Olive Gaye treating the 
old maid with a playful freedom and lack of ceremony, 
such as is only observed toward young people ; and 
having thus won Milicent’s heart, she followed up the 
conquest by listening to the story of her admiration for 
young Clarence Stanley and declaring his picture “ just 
too handsome for anything.” From that moment Miss 
Fairfax would have died for her ; and when she called 
her “ Toddlekins,” in playful allusion to her duck-like 
walk, declaring that Milicent was to call her “ Nolli- 
kens ” in return, as a synonym for “ Olive,” the old 
maid was ready to yield up her soul to follow where her 
heart had gone before. 

“ She loves Clarence,” thought Olive, bringing her 
long reverie to a close. “ She loves Clarence, and to 
the eye of love there is no disguise. But stop ! She 
loves me, too, and for me she will do anything — any- 
thing ! She would even throw dust in the eyes of love 
itself. Yes — if there should even be the disguise I sus- 
pect, and her eyes should penetrate it, I can yet manage 
that tough knot ! And now to read her letter 


188 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


“Windermere House, 

“ Herts, England, May — , 1892. 

“ Dearest Nollikens : I send you the photograph ; a 
copy would not be the same, besides which, I could not 
let it out of my possession to any one hut yourself long 
enough to have it copied. 

“ Sending it is like passing it from my left hand to my 
right — I still feel that it is with me. And I am glad, 
dear, that you should have it for a while, because we 
are in such trouble here, and you may be the means of 
helping us. Lord Appleby is doomed — the^octor says 
his days are numbered — and the little heir must go, too. 
Who could have thought it ? One short year ago, both 
of them the picture of health as they then looked ? The 
mysterious malady that is killing them they inherit from 
Lord Appleby’s mother, the late countess. She had it 
from her mother, and so on, I don’t know how many 
generations back ; and no physician has ever been able 
to understand the malady, or even to give it a name. 
They say it is no disease at all, but a curse. The count- 
ess came of a Spanish family named Mendoza, and an 
old ancestor centuries ago wronged some Indian prin- 
cess in America. That Mendoza had two wives, a Span- 
ish wife and an Indian wife, and both left descendants. 
It is said that the Indian womamleft her curse on every 
Mendoza who didn’t lawfully marry one of her own de- 
scendants — and though that is a mere superstition — and 
I don’t believe a word of it — there is something peculiar 
about it, for as far as I can find out anything about it — 
and since I got your letter, dearest, I have taken pains 
to find out everything I could about the Countess of 
Windermere’s family, and it is certainly remarkable how 
many of them have died mysteriously from some un- 
known malady or else by accident or violence. 

The case of poor Lord Appleby and his little boy 


AN INTERESTING LETTER. 


189 


brings it home very close to us, and although I wouldn’t 
let myself believe in this superstition I can’t but think 
this malady that is killing Lord Appleby and the child 
very awful and mysterious. That brings me to the old 
earl. He is still as much in love with you, Nollie, as 
ever ! Ah, what a thousand pities he isn’t his own son, 
and then you could marry him and be Countess of Win- 
dermere. He is in despair at the condition of his son and 
grandson — such despair that even the return of our 
Clarence (though his father has always hated him) 
would be welcomed. The earl, who married his wife 
from a bitter feeling of revenge because she had twice 
refused him, grew at last to hate her bitterly ; and this 
feeling was increased by the fact of her hopeless attach- 
ment to a cousin of her own, who was also the heir-at- 
law of the Windermere estates if the present earl should 
die childless. It appears to be a law of nature that men 
always hate the heir at-law ; and in the case of the earl, 
his hate was increased by knowing the heir-at-law to be 
his rival, for whose sake he had been twice refused ; and 
when his second son was born, the image of his mother 
and bearing the fatal Mendoza birthmark on his temple, 
the old earl transferred his hate of the heir-at-law to his 
own son ; and poor Clarence thus became the pet and 
darling of his mother. 

“ From the time when Clarence left us until now no 
one has ever dared to name him to the earl ; but now, 
as I have already said, I think the earl would even wel- 
come this detested son as an heir to Windermere. The 
original heir-at-law, his rival and the favored lover of 
the countess, is long since dead ; but he has left two 
childjen, one a son, Harold, and a daughter, Constance. 
The son is, of course, the present heir-at-law, and it was 
his sister to whom Clarence was engaged ; another rea- 
son for tho old earl’s hatred toward his younger son, 


190 


THE SPANISH TKEASUKE. 


This young lady, Constance Moray, is a lovely girl, I 
believe, though I have never seen her. But I am ready 
to love any one who cared for Clarence and for whom 
he cared. Only the serious thing in this matter is that 
from the day when our Clarence left us till the present 
hour not one of us has ever received a line or word or 
message from our dearly loved boy. Of course, he 
would not have written to his father, and there was lit- 
tle sympathy between him and Lord Appleby ; so 
there has never been any great cause of surprise that 
neither of them should have received any letters from 
him. 

“ Though he knew very well that I would always be a 
member of the family wherever my sister was, it was 
hardly to be expected that he would have written to 
me. Not but what I hoped and prayed to get an 
occasional remembrance from him, but nothing has 
ever come. I would so gladly have kept him informed 
of all the news of the family ; but I can’t feel a bit sur- 
prised that he should have preferred to forget them all 
at once and forever as soon as the ocean had parted 
them. What I was not prepared for, however, was the 
fact I have just learned, and it is this : From the 
moment of parting with him till now Lady Constance 
Moray has not received line or message from her lover. 
Not even the sight of his handwriting on a newspaper 
wrapper has reached her. This is so unlike our Clar- 
ence, Nollie, darling, what can it mean ? Does it fore- 
shadow the fearful calamity I have never dared to 
think of. That calamity which now I cannot keep out 
of my thoughts. Is Clarence no longer living } Has 
the Indian woman’s curse pursued him to the death, 
also ? But, no ! I am ashamed to let such supersti- 
tious fancies into my mind ! For if there is truth in it, 
Clarence was the one to be safe, for he loved the 


AN INTERESTING LETTER. 


191 


descendant of the Mendoza ; but, perhaps, not a 
descendant of the Indian woman ? Oh, what utter 
nonsense ! I would be as superstitious as any one 
if I allowed my mind to dwell on these follies. No, no, 
I will not, I dare not believe that any harm has come 
to my Clarence. Perhaps he did not really love Lady 
Constance ; there may not have been any engagement 
between them, but something there was, I know, for 
when Lord Harold came to make personal inquiries 
after Lord Appleby, I even plucked up courage to ask 
him boldly whether he or his sister had, in all these 
years, heard constant tidings of Clarence. And it was 
then, to my dismay and terror, that I learned all I have 
now told you of that dear boy’? inexplicable and fear- 
ful silence. Oh, my Nollie, I can never bear it ! And 
though yours is such a large country, the world itself 
sometimes seems very small, and perhaps whom I 
love even more, if that could be, than Clarence, may be 
the means of finding him for me ! Learn his face by 
heart, dear one, and then, if you should meet him, you 
will recognize him for me. He may have cast aside 
his name ; that name he had no cause to love ; but you 
will study his face, my darling, and you will recognize 
him for my sake whenever you may meet him. 

“ We are counting days, now, for our poor invalids ; a 
little while ago it was months, then weeks. Alas ! 
who knows how soon it may be hours instead of days. 
Lord Harold Moray has left us already. The old earl 
insulted him openly to his face, asking him if he had 
come for dead men’s shoes before the feet they belonged 
to were cold ; and even my sister. Lady Appleby, seemed 
to think it was bad taste on the part of Lord Harold to 
come to Windermere House. But they all misunder- 
stood him. He does not wish at all to inherit the earl- 
dom or the estates. It was to inquire about Clarence 


192 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


that he came. His sister mourns our dear boy as dead, 
and it is plain to me that Lord Harold shares her 
belief. But he declares that if Lord Appleby dies, he 
will go in person to America and never return till he 
finds Clarence or proofs of his death. The Earl of 
Windermere sneers at this, but I believe in Lord 
Harold. He loves Clarence and he loves his sister 
Constance, and by my own heart I know him to be 
true. I am writing you a very long letter, dear Nolli- 
kens. Reward me by one as long or longer ; it will be 
all too short for me if it should be twice the length of 
mine. If the worst should come suddenly, I will let 
you know at once ; for who knows ? It may be yours 
to give the news to Clarence that, in face of all impos- 
sibilities, he is the future Earl of Windermere. 

“ Ever your devoted Toddlekins.” 

Olive Gaye’s eyes were glittering with excitement 
when she finished this letter, and she could have hugged 
her correspondent to her heart for the news she had sent. 
She even forgave the rambling style of Miss Fairfax, 
which would have made it difficult for any one less 
interested to follow the thread of her story. A smile of 
triumph lit up her sparkling face ; then, seating herself 
at her desk, she slowly read over her letter again, paus- 
ing from time to time to jot down special points, or 
else to follow out some line of thought suggested by 
phrases here and there. 

“ The old earl still in love with me ! Ah, yes. Toddle- 
kins ! It is easier for an old man to fall in love with a 
young girl than it is to fall out again. His last letter 
showed no such despair about Lord Appleby, nonsuch 
anxiety for the return of Clarence. Perhaps he even 
dreams of another heir, one uncontaminated with the 
Mendoza taint, free from the curse of that ghostly, aveng- 


AN INTERESTING LETTER. 


193 


ing Indian princess. But for me, I never did admire the 
old Sir Pitt Crawleys of London society, especially while 
there was a choice among their youthful heirs. But 
this Clarence Stanley ? Ah, Toddlekins, he isn’t a bit 
like Clarence, and I prefer him as he is, much as he 
resembles Madame Celestine’s Carlos !” 

Olive paused suddenly in her reflections and in the 
broken phrases she had been writing on the paper before 
her, and she shivered slightly, as if with cold. 

“If he. is not Clarence,” she thought, then Celestine 
was right ; and if my Clarence is her Carlos, who was 
the dead man they brought home to her, and whose 
hand drove Carlos Mendoza’s dagger through his 
heart ?” 

A livid pallor overspread Olive’s keen bright face. 
She enjoyed dramatic effect ; she had a taste for high- 
class melodrama, and the dark tragedies of the world in 
a strong sensational novel had a certain charm ; but in 
life — in every-day life, mingled with her own existence 
— ah ! It had suddenly come home to her, and she 
drew back appalled. Then catching up the paper she 
had been scribbling on, she tore it into shreds, lighted 
it at the gas, and watched it burn to ashes on the hearth 
before her. 

“ What nonsense !” she said. “ It is all a dream, and 
ends in smoke ! Anyway, I shall wait till I hear further 
news from Toddlekins. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE DAGGER IS MADE READY. 

Left alone by the sudden and tumultuous exit of her 
guests, Polly Hamilton stood for some moments in 
silence, gazing into the face of her lover, on which she 
seemed to see the vivid reflection of her own feelings. 

“ Oh, Clarence,” she exclaimed at last, “ what could 
that woman have meant ? Do you think she is mad ?” 

“ She certainly acted like it,” was the answer. 

Polly drew a long sigh of relief. 

“ She must be so. Nothing else would explain her 
conduct. Dear Clarence, I am so sorry you should 
have been annoyed, and through me, too. It is Bertha 
Sefton’s fault or Olive Gaye‘s. But how could I imag- 
ine—” 

“ My dear girl !” said Stanley, tenderly, and taking 
her hand, which he pressed to his lips. 

He was grateful enough for not being taken to task 
or called on for an explanation to be almost in love 
with Polly, and he was sincerely sorry when Mr. and 
Mrs. Hamilton now entered the room. 

“ Alone !” exclaimed Mr. Hamilton. “ I was sure I 
heard voices. Where are your visitors, Polly ?” 

His daughter hurriedly explained and tried to make 
[194] 


THE DAGGER IS MADE READY. 


195 


light of the matter ; but, to her surprise, Mr. Ham- 
ilton was inclined to take it seriously. 

“It must be a striking resemblance, indeed,” he 
said, “when a woman mistakes a man for her own 
husband. Clarence, my dear fellow,” he added, in a 
jesting manner, but with a very keen look at his 
prospective son-in-law, “ we have always accepted 
you at your own valuation ; but, as you are now 
intending to become one of the family, I hope — I 
really do hope — you are quite sure of your own 
identity.” 

“ Entirely, sir,” replied Stanley, very stiffly. 

“ Papa !” exclaimed Polly, almost in tears. 

“All right, Polly, my little girl,” returned her 
father. 

But, later on, he said to his wife that he meant to 
make more and very special inquiries about Polly’s 
lover. 

“ I never could understand his extreme reluctance to 
talk of his English home.” 

‘‘ Nothing could be more natural,” declared Mrs. 
Hamilton, “ considering how he was treated there.” 

“ Perhaps so,” returned her husband ; “ but I hear 
from an English correspondent of mine that Lord 
Appleby and his little son are mortally ill and may die 
any day, and in that case Clarence will be obliged to 
put aside his reluctance to speak of his English home.” 

“ Then Polly may yet be Countess of Windermere !” 
exclaimed Mrs, Hamilton, forgetting everything else in 
the delight of that thought. 

“Not a word on the subject at present,” said Mr, 
Hamilton. “ It is an entire secret.” 

Meantime Clarence’s evening had not been pleasant, 
although Polly had tried to atone for her father’s chill- 
ing words by the increased warmth of her qwu sniiles ; 


196 


THE SPANISH TKEASURE. 


and, at an unusually early hour, Stanley bade them all 
good-night, and walked moodily towards his hotel. 

His reflections were not agreeable, and the mood 
engendered by the events of the evening, had given 
rise to many currents of thought, some of which had 
never before occurred to him. He had not seen 
Dolores that evening. She had not appeared at the 
dinner-table, nor had she come into the drawing-room 
afterward. He was painfully conscious of her absence, 
and could not tell why ; and, despite all the annoyance 
caused by Mrs. Helmholtz and the manner of Mr. 
Hamilton, apropos of that unpleasantness, the face of 
Dolores seemed continually to rise before him, and the 
voice of Dolores to sound in his ear, and this fact 
troubled him, for in his experience of women it was 
rare. He never thought of them, except when for 
some specific reason he persistently fixed his mind on 
some one of them ; even then he often found it difficult. 
But now, do as he would, he could not drive this 
woman from his thoughts ; then he suddenly remem- 
bered Van Tassel, and he was sure he had not seen him 
for many days, although he had commanded him to 
come daily ; he remembered this with a sudden feeling 
of fury, and asked himself why his slave had dared to 
disobey him ? 

“ But, he will come to-night,” he thought triumph- 
antly, ” for I promised him money, and he was nearly 
at his last dime then. Oh, yes, he will come to-night ! 
I shouldn’t wonder if he is waiting for me now !” 

He hastened his steps and was soon within the hotel ; 
and, as he hurried toward his room, he saw that the 
light was glimmering through a crack of the partly 
opened door — for the professor carried a key of Stanley’s 
apartments. 

“ I thought so !” he muttered ; and, flinging open the 


THE DAGGER IS MADE READY. 


197 


door, he entered noiselessly, slamming it behind him 
and locking it Van Tassel looked np with an expres- 
sion of reckless defiance. He was just recovering from 
the intoxication of opium, and for brief moments he 
would have defied Satan in person. Stanley had 
chanced on one of these moments. 

“ What the devil do you mean by glaring at me 
in that way ?” he asked. “ Haven’t I the right to enter 
my own apartment ?” 

“ I suppose so ; I don’t care,” the other replied indif- 
ferently. 

Why haven’t you been here every night, as I bade 
you said Stanley. 

“ Did you bid me so ? When ? I didn’t know,” said 
Van Tassel, mockingly. 

“ I’ll make you know before I’ve done !” said Stanley 
in a fury, and then with sudden concentrated bitterness •. 
“ You have lied to me ! Even you can lie, it seems. I 
have seen Celestine.” 

Van Tassel bounded to his feet as if he had been gal- 
vanized. 

“ You have seen Celestine ?” he repeated, and there 
was a singular gladness in his aspect. “ How — when — 
where ? Has Dolores, then, got this great power ?” 

“ You thundering fool!” said Stanley, with overwhelm- 
ing contempt. You great, credulous baby — it wasn’t 
at a spirit-seance. I have seen Celestine, and she was a 
mighty lively ghost — I’d rather have seen fifty airy 
spirits in gossamer than her one material, flesh-and- 
blood form, though she’s handsomer than ever.” 

“ I don’t know vrhat you mean,” returned Van Tassel 
with bitter dissappointment in his voice. Celestine, 
poor girl, is dead — sunk in the quicksand where I found 
her little shoes, and in them her farewell letter.” 

** Qh, yes, I know — well, I don’t know how she got 


198 


THE SPANISH TEEASPKE. 


out of the quicksand, but her eyes are as sharp as ever, 
and she recognized me at the first glance.” 

1 thought she was dead, Carlos — Clarence — I swear 
to you I did.” 

“ Yes, I can see you were deceived, just as she was ; 
but now we have met again, and she means to give me 
trouble.” 

But you shall do her justice, Carlos — you shall. I 
loved my little sister, you remember, and had she come 
to me — had she not left me at all, I never would have 
kept your secret.” 

“ Well, you will keep it now,” returned Stanley, with 
a serene tranquility that never failed to overpower his 
companion, “ and there is no occasion for worry about 
your little sister. She has feathered her nest in the 
downiest manner — she is the 'wife of the most noble, 
the Baron von Helmholtz, and I couldn’t marry her 
over again now, to save all our lives. On the contrary, 
I want to marry some one else — understand me. Van, I 
want to marry this some one else ; and now do you see 
what is the matter ?” 

“You love her ?” gasped Van Tassel. “ You want to 
marry Dolores Mendoza because you love her, and you 
know it and admit it ?” 

“True as truth, itself — I have only just found it out. 
Van, to-night. I may have had glimpses of it before, 
but I didn’t know what it meant; the sensation was so 
new and delightful. Oh, I tell you it is the real thing 
— I tremble and choke at the sight of her — I feel good 
and noble when I’m in her presence. I would do any- 
thing, everything, only to win an approving smile from 
that girl.” 

“ I warned you not to let her gain a power over you,” 
said Van Tassel^ gravely. “ She will never love you. 


THE DAGGER IS MADE READY. 


199 


and now you have lost your only chance of gaining any- 
thing from her.” 

“ I tell you I will gain her. After all I have learned 
from these mighty tomes ” — and he waved his hand 
toward the books brought to him at various times by 
the professor — “ shall I not be able to mesmerize one 
slight girl T* 

“ No, not if she possesses over you that power which 
is greater than all other — the eternal magic of human 
love. Let her alone, my boy, and keep away from her, 
for she will never return your love. She is too far 
above you, and you can neither bring her down to your 
level nor can you rise to hers. Drop mesmerism and 
all belonging to it ; you are playing with fire, and you 
will surely burn your hands. For the sake of old times, 
and since Celestine is alive and well and, perhaps, happy, 
I will give you a word of good advice, though you have 
not deseiwed it from me. Marry the pretty Miss Polly, 
who loves you, and be good to her, and give up the 
impossible. Wretched, forlorn and broken-down wretch 
as I am, I have known great power, though I have lost 
it ; but you know nothing, Clarence, on the great sub- 
ject, and you never will. Neither 3^our mind nor your 
heart can grasp it. It needs a pure and noble purpose, 
a mind above this lower world and a heart free from all 
passion either for woman, gold or vengeance. Only 
such can succeed ; all others are bound to fail.” 

Stanley burst into clear, ringing laughter. 

“ Well done. Van. I set you on your little hobby- 
horse, and you have had a nice little canter. So ; so ! 
Now come off and take a rest.” 

He was already making the well-known and unre- 
sisted mesmeric passes ; and Van Tassel, who had 
exhausted the fitful energy bestowed on him by the 
stimulus of opium, was quickly under the power of his 


^00 


THE SPAICISH TREASURE. 


master’s will, and presently lay back in his chair, uncon- 
scious, the helpless victim of the strength that has no 
conscience. 

Stanley’s face had become fiend-like in its concen- 
trated expression of cold and cruel selfishness. 

“ Why have you not been here every day, as I com- 
manded you ?” he asked. 

“ Because I found that I could resist your will.” 

“ What gave you that power.” 

“ I saw that your will was under the infiuenceof a 
higher will.” 

“ Is it so now ?” 

“ Not at this moment ; the evil in your nature is now 
predominant over all other qualities, and it is the 
strongest part of you ; it controls me through the worst 
part of me, which responds to it.” 

“ Through it I can also control Dolores ?” And the 
speaker’s voice was almost tremulous with eagerness. 

“Never ! Her nature is too pure and noble — so fine 
that it even attracts the small remnant of good in 
yours. You can only overcome her through fear. Her 
feminine soul is so delicate that you may terrify her, 
but she is protected by all high and noble aspirations, 
and though you can trouble her, it is through her love 
for her friend. There are moments when she fears you 
— when you are entirely evil — and when she shrinks 
from you the most, then she is most at your mercy, for 
womanly terror overcomes her, and she has not yet 
learned her own power. But, beware ! For it is as I 
have told you, and you are playing with fire.” 

Stanley smiled disdainfully. 

“ Thanks,” he said, lightly. “ Advice gratis, but not 
appreciated, as usual. You have saved me a heap of 
trouble. Van, in summing up the knowledge of this 
library of the occult sciences with which you have pro- 


THE DAGGER IS MADE READY. 


201 


vided me, and which makes my head spin when I try to 
read it. I prefer to take my wisdom in small and con- 
centrated doses. Wait a minute and I will let you go.” 

He went quickly toward a bureau in the farther part 
of the room, and when he returned, he carried a slender 
dagger about a foot long, which he had drawn from the 
sheath held in his other hand. 

“ You recognize it, Van,” he said. “ You remember 
giving it to me when I lost the other one. It has your 
name engraved on the steel. I have kept it ever since 
as a souvenir of our friendship. I am going to lend it 
to you, but be careful of it. I couldn’t bear to have it 
lost.” 

A convulsive shudder shook the unconscious professor 
from head to foot as Stanley, having returned the dag- 
ger to its sheath, now placed it carefully in the half- 
closed hand that fell over the arm of the chair. 

“ Put it in your pocket. Van, and keep it carefully till 
wanted.” 

Van Tassel’s fingers slowly closed upon the object he 
felt within his hand, but he seemed to make a deter- 
mined effort to disobey the latter part of the order. A 
cold dew of terror was on his brow, his mouth twisted 
horribly and his eyelids twitched ; and, raising his arm 
forcibly, he strove to fling the dagger from him ; and he 
muttered : 

“ No, no ; I will not ! Though you should summon 
the powers of hell to help you, I will not obey !” 

But his fingers remained closed, and his arm presently 
dropped back, powerless, and lay drooping over the arm 
of the chair. 

“ You mistake, Henri,” said the voice of Stanley, cold 
and menacing and irresistible to the soul that heard it. 
“ I said put the dagger in your pocket and keep it safe 
till I bid you use it. Do you understand ?” 


202 


THE SPANISH TEE A SURE. 


I understand,” moaned the victim. 

And you obey ?” 

“ I obey.” 

His hand moved quickly toward the inner pocket of 
his coat, and the dagger was carefully concealed there. 

A few minutes later. Professor Van Tassel was sit- 
ting up, pale and trembling, but quite awake, helplessly 
gazing into the smiling face of his master. 

“ It is quite an easy matter to mesmerize you now,” 
said Stanley. “ After this, I shall be able to control 
you at a distance. You will obey my thoughts.” 

Van Tassel shivered till his teeth chattered. 

“ Clarence, you are merciless,” he said in a husky 
whisper. 

“ Not a bit of it,” laughed Stanley. “ Be a good dog, 
and you will find me a kind master. Ah, before I for- 
get it I” 

He drew out a handful of gold and bills and dropped 
them into the shaking, outstretched hand of the miser- 
able wretch before him. 

“ And now go home and sleep. I have had enough 
of you for to-night, professor.” 

He unlocked the door and flung it open, and as he 
again closed it on the retreating form of Van Tassel he 
once more turned the key and shot the bolt. 

“ Happily, he cannot pass through bolts as well as 
locked doors,” he said, with a grim smile ; or else, 
poor old Van, I think he would like to come back and 
use the dagger now, or, at least, when he finds that he 
has it.” 





CHAPTER XIX. 

A CRY FOR HELP AND THE ANSWER. 

When she had retired to her room, after parting with 
her lover, Polly Hamilton suddenly realized what she 
had never before so much as suspected, and that was 
that she possessed great latent capacity for suffering. 

“ I am surely the most unhappy girl in this great city 
to-night,” she thought. “ I never supposed that I could 
be so unhappy. And yet I ought to have known it. 
Any one capable of being so happ)’ as I have been all 
my life and so transcendently happy as I have been since 
Clarence and I have been engaged should be prepared 
for anything. I ought to have known that people ean’t 
live in heaven in this world ; and yet that is just what 
I have been doing. Perhaps I have been selfish in my 
happiness, though I have not meant to be. Perhaps I 
ought not to have concealed it from papa and mamma ; 
but that is nonsense. Because I haven’t concealed it — 
I haven’t known how, even to please Clarence, and they 
have understood the whole thing just as well as if I had 
repeated every word that Clarence and I have said to 
-each other. All the same, I am going to tell them now.” 

And though it was nearly midnight, Mary Hamilton 
went swiftly to the room of her parents at the farther 
«end of the hall, but not so far away but that this dearly 

[203] 


204 


THE SPANISH TEEASljR:^. 


cherished child was at all hours within the sound of her 
mother’s voice. 

Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton had just ceased from speaking- 
of Mary and her lover ; and it was with difficulty that 
the proud and happy mother refrained from congratu- 
lating her daughter on the probability that she would, 
after all, become the countess of Windermere. 

“ Papa, mamma !” exclaimed Mary,“ I suppose I ought 
to have told you before now, but you know I am engaged 
to marry Clarence !” 

Mr. Hamilton laughed and kissed his daughter ; and 
then, holding her off at arm’s length, he said gravely : 

“ We have suspected it, both your mother and myself, 
for some time, and I think that Clarence himself is in 
the secret.” 

“ Yes, dear ; but you know, papa, when I told you 
about the perfectly crazy story of Mrs. Helmholtz, you 
actually spoke to Clarence as if he was in some way to 
blame.” 

“ Don’t you mind that, Polly, you are not to be 
unhappy about anything that I may say to Clarence ; 
but one thing you may just settle down and build on, and 
that is that no man on earth is going to deceive my 
little girl or give her any cause to spoil her pretty eyes 
with crying, without giving a good account of the 
reason of it all to her old father. And now, good night, 
and go to bed, Polly.” 

Polly said good-night, and exchanged embraces and 
kisses with both father and mother ; and though her 
papa's words sounded vaguely threatening, they were 
also reassuring, for he had guarded her like a tender 
flower from every breeze of heaven, save such as were 
bringing gladness and happiness to her ; and not yet 
had pretty Polly Hamilton learned that griefs may 
■come and will come, against which even love itself may 


A CRY FOR HELP AND THE ANSWER. 


205 


be quite powerless to shield. But she didn't go to bed, 
at least not yet ; instead, she ran swiftly toward the 
room of Dolores, and, finding her still up and appar- 
ently not thinking of sleep, she took her to task for 
having kept herself secluded all the evening. 

Dolores looked sad and disturbed and seemed unwill- 
ing to explain why she had not appeared at dinner or 
afterward in the drawing-room. 

“ You know I am often gloomy and out of spirits,” 
she said at last, “ and really not fit company for happy 
young people of my own age who have never known 
sorrow.” 

“ Yes, Rita, you have said such things to me before, 
and I am filled with self-reproach in hearing them, for 
surely I must be to blame if 1 cannot in some way 
make you forget your sorrows and give you happiness 
instead.” 

“You are never to blame in anything, Maruja !” 
exclaimed Dolores. “ And always remember that I 
have said so. Whatever happens, and whatever I may 
do, remember that I love you above everything in my 
life except the memory of my mother. And now ask 
me nothing more to-night ; for, indeed, I can hardly 
explain to myself why I preferred to remain alone in 
my room this evening rather than to spend it as usual 
with you and your friends and your — I mean with Mr. 
Stanley.” 

She ended abruptly, and Polly felt her heart contract 
with jealous doubt and alarm, for Dolores was going to 
say “ your lover ” when she changed the phrase to that 
of “ Mr. Stanley.” 

“She knows that he is my lover,” thought Polly, 
“ and yet she cannot bear to call him so. Oh, what 
does that mean ? It was only a day or two ago that 
Olive Gaye said she would not dare to have a friend so 


206 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


beautiful as Dolores and a sweetheart so handsome as 
Clarence constantly looking at each other, even with a 
face that both ought to love between them. Oh, what 
a shrewd and terribly deep girl that is, and I am sure I 
shall always hate her after to-night ! But she does say 
things that seem full of an awful meaning.*' 

Her gaze was fixed full on Dolores while these 
thoughts passed like lightning through her mind, and 
she saw the dear olive-cheek flush to the hue of car- 
mine, and the deep luminous eyes grew dark and full 
of trouble, though they still gazed bravely back into 
her own. 

“ Trust me, Maruja," said Dolores ; “ trust me ; for 
even when I give you pain believe that I love you then, 
perhaps, most of all. And now good-night. I want to 
think a little while before I sleep, and I am so tired.” 

Mary Hamilton impulsively caught the lovely Spanish 
girl in her arms and kissed her. 

“ Good night, then, my sweet sister ; but go to sleep 
soon, and don’t think too hard. That is all I ask just 
now.” 

She hurried away, as if fearing to trust herself to say 
anything more ; and Dolores, her eyes shining through 
grateful tears, went toward the open window, from 
which she could catch a glimpse of the far-off broad 
river that flowed to the sea, and overhead that other 
illimitable and shoreless ocean of ether within which for- 
ever swung the countless millions of other worlds that 
men call “ stars.” 

For a few minutes she remained gazing down on the 
streets below, but quickly her eyes sought the upper 
air, and her thoughts soon soared above the disquieting 
influences of the lower world, while peace and tranquil- 
ity stole in upon her soul. 

“ What mere atoms we are, all of us, in this endless 


A CKY FOR HELP AND THE ANSWER. 


207 


universe/’ she murmured, with a gentle tolerance toward 
everybody, “ and yet how all-important, each one of us, 
to ourselves or to some one else. But for that, how 
glad I should be to lose myself forever in the great sea 
of space — What was that line mamma used to say 
from the old Scotch song? — ‘ ’T is love, ’t is love that 
makes the world go round ’ — that was the sentiment 
anyway ! Dear Maruja ! She fears that Clarence 
Stanley is falling in love with me, and from the depths 
of her own passion, she thinks no woman could fail to 
fall in love with him ! And why does the man’s pres- 
ence disquiet me ? I am so ignorant of this great 
passion of which poets sing and novelists write — this 
‘ love that makes the world go round ’ — that I do not 
even know its signs. I am disturbed but not joyfully ; 
I am excited but not with pleasure. No, no, this can- 
not be love ! But whatever it is, it is making Maruja 
unhappy, and that must never be. Rather than bring 
unhappiness into her life I will vanish out of it forever, 
and he will see me no more. But is that necessary ? 
Does my presence come between Maruja and her lover ? 
Am I not vain and foolish to suppose it ? Must I sacri- 
fice this new and happy life for nothing ! The only 
peace, the only happiness except my mother’s love that 
I have ever known ? I will not be rash. I will know 
the worst before I throw away substance for shadow. 
O mother — dear and best love of my life — be near me 
now as ever to comfort and help me !” 

With a bitter moan of grief Dolores drew back from 
the window, and her gaze dropped from the clear and 
glittering expanse above her down toward the street 
below, and in that one swift glance she caught a 
glimpse of a white and supplicating face raised toward 
her own. 

“ Who is that ? What does it mean ? Surely I know 


208 


THE SPANISH TEEASURE, 


that face ?” she thought ; and in the next moment she 
was bending out of the window and gazing eagerly 
downward. 

The face upraised to her was white and drawn with 
despairing misery ; for when he had left the presence 
of Stanley, Van Tassel was conscious of some impend- 
ing horror, all the more terrible because it was unknown 
and intangible. He felt only too sure that, while in the 
mesmeric trance, he had been bound, by the evil will 
which now controlled him, to a promise, the fulfillment 
of which might lead him into a crime, but which he was 
now quite powerless to resist. In his benighted mind 
he called on every power in Heaven or on earth to aid 
him, and suddenly, like a flash of light, the face of 
Dolores Mendoza seemed to rise before him. He had 
been walking listlessly to and fro, having stopped more 
than once or twice to refresh himself with brandy, and 
now he was being followed by a couple of very rough- 
looking tramps who had caught the glitter of gold 
when he had paid for his last drink of brandy. When 
he stopped suddenly, looking about him, they thought 
themselves detected ; and spying the blue uniform of 
the police not far distant, they slouched into a dark 
lane and watched silently, while Van Tassel turned into 
a side street and pursued his way till, as he glanced 
upward, he suddenly saw the face of Dolores, radiant in 
the starlight, and looking to him like the face of his 
good angel smiling from the heavens. 

“ Help ! Help !’' he cried, and his hands were raised 
in supplication toward her. 

“ It is Mr. Van Tassel !” exclaimed Dolores, and in an 
instant she remembered all about him — the feeling of 
pity which had so touched her on their first meeting, 
the desire to protect him which had then actuated her 
and a sensation, so often experienced since, but not 


A CRY FOR HELP AND THE ANSWER. 209 

understood, as if some one was crying out to her for 
assistance. 

“ What does he say ?” thought Dolores, on beholding, 
from her window, the pale, drawn face of Van Tassel. 
“ He is surely in some great trouble, and he is calling 
on me for help ! I cannot speak to him from here ; it 
is too far ; and yet I cannot let him think me deaf to his 
call or unwilling to respond to it ! Ah — yes !" 

She had drawn back into the room, and now, as she 
looked about as if for some means of conveying a mes- 
sage, she saw on the flower-stand beside her a simple 
white rose, placed there hours before by Mary Ham- 
ilton. 

“ He will understand,” she thought ; and seizing the 
flower she flung it into the outstretched hands of Henri 
Van Tassel. He caught it and pressed it to his lips, 
and with it there came to him the same sense of strength 
— of being uplifted and invigorated — that had come to 
him when in her presence. He waved his hand toward 
her, and her face disappeared from the window, and he 
turned, to find himself in the grasp of the two tramps, 
who had approached in the shadow of the house, and, 
catching him now off his guard, seized him, gagged him 
with one hand, and bore him to the ground swiftly and 
without resistance. Van Tassel, who was but a slight 
man, of very little physical strength at any time, was 
easily overpowered, and would have been robbed 
instantly and without a struggle had not help come to 
him as suddenly and unexpectedly as he had been 
attacked. 

At the moment when Dolores had appeared at the 
window, just after recognizing Van Tassel, a gentleman 
who had been approaching from the other direction, and 
who was a stranger to the country as well as to the 
metropolis, paused and said to himself, with a laugh : 


210 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


“ A custom of the country, I suppose, and much the 
same as in other countries, too — an American Romeo 
and Juliet.” 

And as he stood for a moment in the shadow of a tree, 
his very natural suspicion seemed verified, and a white 
rose was flung down through the soft May air and was 
caught and rapturously kissed by the recipient. What 
happened next was all so rapid that no one of the par- 
ticipants could have clearly described it ; but the effect 
was to bestow blackened eyes and bloody noses on a 
couple of ruffians, who received these marks of favor 
with howls and execrations ; and when Dolores again — 
this time in alarm as well as surprise — looked out of the 
window, she saw the attacking party in full retreat and 
Henri Van Tassel, much disheveled and visibly excited, 
leaning against the shoulder of his rescuer. 

Dolores, who had seen too many street-flghts not to 
understand and whose first thought was for Van Tassel, 
flew from the room, down-stairs and out into the street, 
without pausing to think, and only took breath when 
she stood beside Van Tassel and held his trembling 
hand in hers. 

“ I hope you are not hurt ?” she said then ; but it was 
the stranger who replied to her ; for Van Tassel, sud- 
denly aware of the brandy he had been drinking, shrank 
from her and only wished that the earth would open 
and swallow him. 

Your friend is not at all hurt,” said the stranger, 
Avhose voice was very full and deep and musical ; “ he 
is not even robbed. I was just in time to frighten off 
the thieves before they had secured the plunder.” 

Oh, thank you !” said Dolores. “ I — we, both of us, 
are very grateful. Mr. Van Tassel, please go directly 
home, will you not ? And, sir, if you would do so, it 
would be such a kindness, will you put him in a carriage 


A CRY FOR HELP AND THE ANSWER. 


211 


and tell the driver to take care of him ; but, indeed, I 
don't know where he lives.” 

Dolores remembered afterwards that the stranger 
had raised his hat and stood holding it in his hand, but 
bending slightly toward her while she spoke ; and she 
was vaguely conscious that she was being treated with 
as much respect as if she had been a princess ; but her 
cheeks were burning like fire, and she had dropped 
Van Tassel’s hand which she had held, and which 
clung to her fingers like that of a frightened child. 

“ I will find out where to take him,” said the stranger, 
when she ceased speaking, “ and I will see him safely 
home ; you may trust me.” 

“Oh, thank you, thank you !” said Dolores, and for 
a brief second or two their gaze held each other, then 
he bowed, and she turned and disappeared into the 
house. 

She could scarcely have counted'sixty seconds since 
she left it, and yet she felt that something had hap- 
pened that was to change her whole life. The stranger 
also felt that he could never forget those eyes, so full 
of child-like confidence, .so deep and dark with passion- 
ate intensity. 

“ What a beautiful girl,” he thought. “ Who can she 
be ?” and turning toward Van Tassel, “ but what a 
choice for a lover !” 



CHAPTER XX. . 

PLAYING WITH FIRE. 

When Mary Hamilton and Dolores next met, there 
was on the face of the latter a reflection of “ that light 
that never was on sea or land,” and she had quite for- 
gotten, for the moment, their conversation of the night 
before and the cause of it. When Clarence Stanley 
called, later in the day, he, too, observed that light, and 
quite misunderstood it. It was like a halo about her 
head and face, and when her eyes met his and seemed 
to bathe him in their shining loveliness, he did not 
suspect that she had looked through him without so 
much as seeing him ; and as his heart bounded to meet . 
that look, he thought : 

“ The girl loves me ! I have seen that look before in 
■women’s eyes ; nothing but love ever calls it there ! 
but let me beware, as old Van says ; it is better she 
should do all the loving, since I can master her better 
that way. Confound Mary Hamilton ! If she would 
only leave us alone for half an hour together ! Let me 
once throw Dolores into the mesmeric trance now, and 
she is mine forever.” 

And Dolores, all unconscious of his presence, smiled 
at her own thoughts and passed on. 

The triumph which Stanley now felt in his power ' 
[ 212 ] 


PLAYING WITH FIRE. 


213 


over Van Tassel, increased by what he mistook for open 
encouragement on the part of Dolores, made him com- 
paratively indifferent to the effect of the unlucky con- 
tretemps between himself and Mrs. Helmholtz and the 
now evident jealousy of Mar}’’ Hamilton. He felt his 
position strong in every respect. Let “ old Hamilton,” 
as he now thought of him, suspect what he pleased ; let 
Polly be jealous either of Celestine or Dolores or both. 
There was but one person living who could disprove his 
present identity, and poor old Van was as harmless now 
as a toothless dog whose bark was silenced also. Had it 
not been that he had no other chance of seeing Dolores, 
he would not any longer go through the form of keep- 
ing up his intimacy with the Hamiltons. But until he 
had quite won Dolores it would be necessary to con- 
tinue his visits to Polly ; and, in order to be ready for any 
contingency, it would be safer to remain on good terms 
with her parents. But nothing could exceed his self- 
confidence and placid indifference, and this manner of 
his, which was so genuine it did not need to be assumed, 
was powerful in its effect on Mr. Hamilton and his wife. 
It was, indeed, rather too powerful in its effect on Mrs. 
Hamilton. 

“We have done wrong to show the least doubt of 
Clarence,” said the anxious mother. “ I fear it has 
offended him, and it may be the means of estranging 
him from Polly ; and now that you have convinced 
yourself that there can be no doubt of his succeeding to 
the title, what will become of us if anything should part 
him from Polly ? She has grown to almost worship 
him, and a separation between them, from any cause, 
would kill the dear child.” 

“ What should separate them ?” exclaimed Mr. Ham- 
ilton. “ Nonsense ! Hasn’t a father a right to be par- 
ticular } My mistake was in not looking into his affairs 


214 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


sooner ; and it still bothers me that 1 can meet no one 
who ever knew him in England. But, of course, that is 
all right. He is Clarence Stanley, and like enough to 
be Earl of Windermere by what I hear ; but don’t say 
anything to him on that subject. If he were fifty earls 
rolled into one, he would not be too good for my daugh- 
ter, and I wish you and Polly would remember that. 
She lets him see how fond she is of him far too much. 
You women ought to know enough to keep that more 
to yourselves. Tell Polly so. It would do the fellow 
good if she held him off a bit. And, bye the bye, since 
we . are talking business, the Windermere estates are 
heavily mortgaged, and Clarence hasn’t money enough 
to clear them. He knows that Polly’s bank account 
will be seven figures on her wedding day, and he is by 
no means indifferent to that circumstance.” 

The result of this confidence between husband and 
wife was a half-playful, half-confidential conversation 
between mother and daughter, within the next twenty- 
four hours. 

“And don’t be so ready to throw yourself into his 
arms, Polly, dear,” said Mrs. Hamilton in conclusion ; 
“ for, really, men are so queer, and the best of them 
prefer the love that is the hardest to win.” 

“Oh, mamma,” exclaimed Polly, between laughing 
and crying, “ don’t ever try to shine as a worldly-wise, 
maneuvering mother, for indeed the son-in-law that 
would be deceived by your artful wiles would not be 
worth the having !” 

“ And that’s not Clarence,” responded Mrs. Hamil- 
ton, “ for he is worth the having. But remember what 
I say, Polly, dear, all the same.” 

“ I will try to, mamma, dear ; but I am afraid it is 
rather late in the day,” sighed Polly. 

And that is how it chanced, when on the next day 


PLAYING WITH FIRE. 


215 


that Stanley called and asked for Miss Hamilton, he 
was told to wait in the drawing-room, if he was able to 
spare time, because Miss Polly was very much engaged. 

“ Poor Polly Hamilton !” 

If she had tried for a month to think of the one thing 
above all others that would, at that moment have 
pleased Stanley the most, she could not have been 
more successful than she was now in sending him that 
cool and careless message ; for, as he entered the draw- 
ing-room, Stanley was aware that Dolores was seated 
at the farther end of it, half buried in an arm-chair and 
sorting a pile of yellow roses that lay on her lap. 
Never had she looked so beautiful. 

She did not attempt to leave the room ; indeed, 
Stanley’s presence had become a matter of indiffer- 
ence to Dolores. Another atmosphere now wrapt her 
so completely from his influence that she had forgot- 
ten even her former dislike and fear of him ; and that 
feeling which, combined with her love and anxiety 
for Polly Hamilton, had so troubled her that she 
could not tell if she was repelled or attracted, was now 
so entirely in abeyance that for the present, she was no 
longer conscious of it. 

She looked up as he approached her and said, with a 
careless nod : 

“ Polly will be here presently. Sit down.” 

“ The longer she stays away the better I shall be 
pleased,” said Clarence, drawing forward a chair so that 
he sat directly opposite Dolores. 

She looked up in mute questioning of his words, but 
she made no other answer. 

“ Because her absence gives me the pleasure of a lit- 
tle talk with you, fairest cousin, and I have too little of 
that.” 

Dolores had put two beautiful amber-colored roses 


216 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


together, and laid them against the front of her corsage 
— it was now June, and she wore a loose gown of cool, 
white India silk, without color or any ornament, for she 
was still in mourning But the golden hue of the flowers, 
like prisoned sunshine against her dress, had a perfectly 
dazzling effect, together with the gleaming light of her 
eyes through her long lashes and the sheen of her 
bronze-brown hair. 

“ You are very beautiful !” said Stanley. 

How often he had said those words to other women 
— how often he had laughed in his heart at the other 
women to whom he had said them. But now they 
really seemed to have a meaning, and his breath came 
quick and his pulses throbbed while he watched this 
woman to whom they seemed to have no meaning. 

“Do you think so?” asked Dolores, with supreme 
indifference. “ What do you know of beauty ?” 

“ Not much, indeed, cousin, till I met you,” said 
Stanley, with a humble sincerity he had never practiced 
till that moment. 

Yes, it was true, he said to himself — all he had told 
Van Tassel, and more, too. He loved, adored, wor- 
shiped this girl. She might, if she cared, make of him 
what she would — something even good enough to be 
loved by herself — or good or bad, what mattered it? 
He could give up the whole world and all that it con- 
tained, content only to sit at her feet and worship there, 
if she would but let him. 

“ You must not call me ‘ cousin,’ ” laughed Dolores, 
mockingly. “ I don’t believe we are even cousins.” 

“ Then something nearer, dearer, Dolores. I love 
you ! I love you ?” 

He bent toward her and would have taken her hand, 
but she snatched it from his touch and pushed back her 


PLATING WITH FIRE. 


217 


chair with a movement of violent, passionate fear and 
loathing. 

“ Don’t dare to touch me !” she cried. You love 
me ? Oh, you are mad !” 

“ I am — mad, or anything you choose to make me ; 
but listen, Dolores — you shall listen ! I love you ! I 
have never before loved any woman. I did not know 
I could love. I am bad ; I am evil. I know it ; I 
acknowledge it. But to love you would redeem any 
man. I feel myself exalted, purified when 1 am near 
you. You can make me an angel like yourself. With- 
out you, I shall be, as I have ever been, a devil ! Think, 
girl, that you can save a soul from Satan. Does that 
mean nothing to an angel such as you are .? It is your 
mission to save me. I belong to you. Is it my fault 
that I have borne a heritage of evil handed down to me 
for hundreds of years, while you have inherited only 
goodness and purity*? It is your duty to redeem me — 
the debt my Indian ancestor owes to me. Dolores ! 
Dolores ! We are the last of our race. To us belongs 
the countless treasure of the Mendozas. It is ours to 
enjoy, ours to possess it forever, ours to lift the curse of 
the Indian woman from the race of the Mendozas. You 
said but now that I was not your cousin. Behold ! Is 
not this the birthmark of the Mendozas ?” 

With a sweeping gesture he pushed back the golden 
hair from his temple, and there Dolores beheld the well- 
known birthmark inherited from Pedro Mendoza. 

“ The black heart !” she cried. “ Oh, come not near 
me ! Murderer, doubly, trebly accursed ! Yes, you do 
indeed bear the mark of the Mendozas ; but only those 
of the black heart are cursed past redemption. Maruja ! 
Maruja ! Even your love cannot save him !” 

She wrung her hands passionately together, while a 
low moan of the deepest distress burst from her lips ; 


218 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


her face became set and white, her eyes rolled wildly, 
then closed as if suddenly glued together ; and, as she 
sank helpless into her chair, her head fell back, and 
Stanley saw that she had become unconscious. 

It was so sudden, so unexpected, that he could hardly 
comprehend what had happened ; but in the next 
moment his heart gave an exultant bound. 

“ At last, at last he muttered. “ I would have 
loved her ; I would have knelt at her feet as a slave ; 
but she would not have it so ; now she is at my 
mercy, and she shall be the slave, not I !" 

He would have taken a step toward her, but his feet 
seemed glued to the floor ; he raised his hands, but 
when he would have waved them before her face they 
seemed suddenly like lead, while a cold breeze seemed 
to strike a chill to his very heart. 

“ What is this ?" he thought. “Am I then powerless 
over her?” 

He seemed to hear the hollow echo of a mocking 
laugh, and every evil instinct of his nature rose to fight 
for him. Let come what might, he would compel her 
to see the treasure and describe its hiding-place. Gold, 
gold ! That was the passion of his soul, and now he 
returned to it with feverish gladness, all the more its 
devoted slave because of his brief infidelity, his fleeting 
fancy for a woman’s love, 

“Can you see the hiding-place of the Mendoza 
treasure in the Santiago Canyon ?” he asked imperiously. 

“ I am there,” said the voice of Dolores ; yet not her 
voice, as it seemed to Stanley, though speaking through 
her lips. 

“ Describe the place.” 

“ Near a sycamore tree, far up the canyon, where the 
wild pansies, the poppies and the blue forget-me-nots 
star the ground.” 


PLAYING WITH FIRE. 


219 


“ Can you see beneath the earth ?” 

“Yes, where gold lies in veins through the earth and 
a thousand rich and rare jewels lie buried.” 

“ How can I reach it ?” 

“ That I shall not tell you ?” 

“ You shall ; I command you !” 

“ I will not obey.” 

Stanley bent forward and, with all the force of his 
strong and evil will, fixed his gleaming eyes on the still 
white face before him, and with set teeth and hands 
clenched, he hissed in low, vibrant tones : 

“ I command you, by the strength of my will and by 
all the depths of evil in my soul, that evil which you fear 
and tremble at, to answer and obey me !” 

“ I refuse and I defy you !” 

Choking with rage, blind with fury, he would have 
rushed on the slight and quivering form in the effort to 
wrench by physical force the obedience he could not com- 
mand ; but when he would have seized the insensible 
form of Dolores, his arms once more fell, powerless, to his 
sides and a shock as if from an electric battery thrilled 
through him from head to foot. Again a cold breeze, 
chill, benumbing, horrible, smote on his face, and a pale 
silvery mist, shot through with glittering dust of fire, 
seemed to rise between him and Dolores; It grew den- 
ser and the air grew colder ; and a shadowy face, dark, 
menacing, terrible, looked at him, while two great, 
glowing eyes glared on him so fiercely they seemed to 
burn into his brain. With a smothered imprecation of 
fear and impotent rage, vStanley fell back before the 
look of those eyes ; and when they had faded away and 
all the air was clear again, he rubbed his own eyes as 
one awaking from sleep and darted forward toward 
Dolores. 

The chair in which she had been seated w^s empty ; 


220 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


the door close beside it was open, and she had evidently 
left the room. 

“ What is the meaning of all this exclaimed Clar- 
ence. Is it magic ? Witchcraft ? Or have I been 
asleep, drugged, hypnotized 

He turned and strode across the room toward the 
other door, and as he parted the curtains he found him- 
self confronted by a face, so drawn, contorted, livid 
with suffering that he looked long upon the once famil- 
iar features before he recognized them. Then he said : 

“ Polly ! Oh, Polly ! Is it you ?” 

“ Yes, Clarence — it is I !” 


CHAPTER XXI. 

SOME OF THE RESULTS. 

Her voice was changed as greatly as her face ; and 
pushing aside the curtain, she entered the room, sinking 
heavily into the nearest chair. 

“ How long have you been here ?” he said at last. 

“ I don’t know ; I can’t tell. It seems a long while.” 

“ How much have you heard ?” 

“ Everything, I suppose ; but I understand nothing 
— nothing, except that you love Dolores — only Dolores. 
You have never loved me — never loved any one but 
Dolores, only Dolores — always and always Dolores ! 
Oh, my Rita, my Rita, whom I loved ! Oh, my Clar- 
ence, my Clarence, who never loved me !” 

“ Polly, Polly, won’t you listen ? Can you forgive ?” 

“ Please, don’t — oh, please, don’t speak to me ! Only 
go away now and leave me ! Please, only go away just 
now and let me be alone !” 


SOME OF THE RESULTS. 


221 


Stanley turned from her quickly. He was, indeed, 
stifling, choking, and he gladly rushed into the hall and 
out into the street. The situation was become too 
much even for his iron nerves, and although the cool 
air seemed to brighten his mind and bring back his 
scattered wits, he walked as in a nightmare. 

It was Mrs. Hamilton, who coming into the drawing- 
room a few minutes later, found her daughter fallen in 
a heap upon the floor, her hands clenched as if in mad- 
dening pain and her poor, distraught, tortured face 
pallid as if stamped with the seal of death. 

At first the shocked and horrified mother could not 
even call for help ; but as soon as her voice returned, 
the whole household was in a state of the wildest con- 
fusion ; and it was not until Doctor Macdonald arrived 
and assured her that Mary was not dead, although sunk 
in a prolonged and dangerous swoon, that Mrs. Hamil- 
ton could put on the outward semblance of calmness. 
At length, the poor girl returned to consciousness, and 
the long-drawn sighs and pitiful moans that then 
escaped her lips were harder still to bear than the 
silence which had preceded them. 

With instinctive precaution, the poor mother had 
dismissed every one from the room, except the physi- 
cian, at the first sign of returning consciousness on the 
part of her child. 

“ No one except those who love her — and Doctor Mac 
does love Polly — shall hear what she may say, poor 
darling, if she ever speaks again !” 

Something like this was the unformulated thought of 
Mrs. Hamilton’s mind, and although she acted upon it, 
she was hardly aware of her own wisdom in doing so. 
But Mary did not seem disposed to speak, only gazing 
pitifully at her mother and at the doctor when she had 
sufficiently recovered to recognize them. Then her 


222 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


eyes filled with tears, which slowly rolled down her 
pallid face, while strangling gasps and sighs broke from 
her lips. 

Mrs. Hamilton would have clasped her daughter in 
her arms, and would have held her head to her heart 
as when a little child — for when had Polly ever known 
a grief that she could not sooth and hush and kiss away 
— and it was maddening now that she could not so much 
as put in words her sympathy and sorrow. But Doctor 
Macdonald checked her with an imperative look, and 
placing his finger on his lips indicated that the tears 
which were now being forced from Polly’s eyes, and the 
sobs and sighs that were shaking her slight form would 
do more to carry off the first weight of her sorrow than 
anything that could be put into words. • 

‘‘ Let her weep,” he whispered, presently. Words 
will only stop the flow of tears — let her weep. The 
grief that . dissolves in tears will never break the 
heart.” 

Mrs. Hamilton could only reply by frantic but help- 
less wringing of her hands. Why should anyone speak 
of Polly’s heart breaking ? What cruel grief had been 
cast on her innocent, sweet child to cause such tears ? 
Oh, it was surely unjust of heaven to torture anyone so 
good and kind and gentle ! Her dear little Polly, who 
had never caused a moment’s pain or sorrow to any 
living thing ! 

Meantime Polly wept silently, bitterly and with a 
fearful sinking of the heart — a terrible despair — as she 
told herself over and over again the words which had 
caused her anguish ; but as her tears increased, and as 
her sobs grew more convulsive, and then slowly calmed 
and finally ceased, the first, awful burning pain of her 
grief passed away, and she thought suddenly, and with 
a strange frantic hopefulness : 


SOME OF THE RESULTS. 


223 


There must be some mistake — I did not quite under- 
stand, I know — I am sure it cannot be so dreadful as I 
have thought.” 

Then suddenly sitting up, she said 

“ Mamma, where is Rita ? Won’t you send her to 
me ? I must speak with her ! I am quite well now, 
quite well — it was nothing but a shock, and I haven’t 
quite understood — but I must see Rita, and then, 
mamma dear, afterward — I will tell you all about it.” 

“ But, Polly—” 

Doctor Macdonald quickly made a sign to Mrs. Ham- 
ilton, and then said to Polly : 

“You shall do just as you please, my dear. A nice, 
confidential talk with your young friend will do you all 
the good in the world ; and if you will promise to take 
a certain bitter drink that I will send you — very bitter, 
but very toning and quieting for the nerves — I think I 
will say good-bye, for the present.” 

He had taken Mary’s hand while he spoke and held 
his finger on her pulse for just one minute, and then, 
gently patting her cheek, he turned away, and Mrs. 
Hamilton, promising to send Dolores immediately, fol- 
lowed Doctor Macdonald from the room. 

This kind-hearted physician had seen the inside work- 
ings of too many households to ask any questions when 
he saw signs of sudden and terrible mental and 
nervous trouble ; but he was certainly amazed to find 
them here ; for Mrs. Hamilton had already told him all 
she knew of the condition of her daughter, and that she 
had left her in a state of perfect health, to receive a 
visit from her fianc^^ only half an hour before the time she 
found her utterly collapsed and unconscious on the floor. 

“ Is there any danger, doctor ?” she asked. “ Don’t 
deceive me. Is it her heart ? Is it some unknown 
malady that we have never suspected ?” 


224 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


“ There is no danger, madam,” the physician hastened 
to assure her, as he continued to fill out a prescription 
which was only a simple tonic and nervine combined. 
“Miss Polly is not the girl to die of a heartache ; but 
you may as well understand that she has had a severe 
shock. No doubt you will soon know much more about 
it than I ever shall ; but my advice is to take her away 
from here as soon as you can ; let her have new scenes, 
new friends ; but above everything else, a new lover. 
Pardon me for saying so, I mean it only for your child’s 
good, but I never liked the old lover ; he had the look 
of a cruel and treacherous villain under his infernal 
beauty. I know I shock you, but I am a physiognomist 
and a physiologist, and I speak painful truths.” 

“Oh, Doctor Macdonald, you are prejudiced!” 
exclaimed Mrs. Hamilton. “ You don’t like handsome 
men — ” 

“We won’t discuss that, my dear lady, but don’t keep 
Miss Polly waiting ; send her young friend to her.” 

He hurried away before Mrs. Hamilton, who was 
indeed too much dazed to pursue the conversation, could 
say anything further ; and she mechanically proceeded 
toward the room of Dolores ; remembering now what 
she had been too excited to remark, although dimly 
conscious of it all the time, that notwithstanding the 
tumult of alarm concerning Polly, Dolores had not yet 
appeared to inquire into the cause of it. 

“ Mary would like to speak to you, Dolores,” she said, 
when the latter opened the door. “ She is in her room.” 

Never had Mrs. Hamilton addressed her in such a 
tone, and Dolores, who had been colorless as marble, 
felt her face flush to the very roots of her hair ; for 
there was contempt, anger, scorn and wounded feeling 
in the voice of Polly’s mother — that voice which had 


SOME OF THE RESULTS. 


225 


always been filled with maternal gentleness toward the 
lonely and motherless girl. 

“ I will come to her at once,” was the answer in low 
and tremulous tones, which went to Mrs. Hamilton’s 
heart ; but she would not permit herself to be moved. 

What kind of a girl was this, who could remain in her 
room without so much anxiety as to ask a question when 
the whole household had been turned upside-down by 
Mary’s inexplicable illness ? It was evidently not inex- 
plicable to her, or why was she so pale and agitated ? 
And by this time Mrs. Hamilton had remembered that 
Dolores was in the drawing room when Stanley had been 
shown into it. She must, then, have still been there when 
Mary entered. She must have known why she had 
fainted. More than that, she was, perhaps, the cause 
of that dreadful and unexplained swoon which had 
seemed to threaten the very life of her child. All this 
passed through the anxious mother’s mind in an instant, 
and produced its effect before she was aware of it ; and 
although she felt the unconscious pathos in Dolores’ 
voice, she hardened her heart against it and turned 
resolutely away. 

Dolores was only vaguely aware that something 
terrible had occurred. She knew that the nervous 
seizure, trance, or whatever it w^as to which she was 
occasionally subject, had overtaken her while listening 
to the h*antic address of Clarence Stanley. She knew 
that he had professed to love her ; but of all that had 
been said, either by him or through her own lips while 
she was in the mesmeric condition, she was entirely 
ignorant. She only knew that when she recovered from 
it, like a person awaking suddenly but completely from 
a brief sleep, she saw him as through some luminous 
mist, staring straight before him, with fixed gaze and 
apparently terrified. She was herself aware of that 


220 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


strengthening, comforting and tranquilizing presence 
that had so often come to her in moments of peril or 
other critical times ; and then she glided quickly from 
the room, and in doing so, she seemed to be obeying 
a directing voice which, without being heard, made 
itself entirely understood. 

But she had neither seen Polly Hamilton enter, nor 
had she any suspicion that Polly had come upon the 
scene unperceived. She seemed to herself to have 
awakened from a dream, which she vainly tried to 
remember ; and she was thinking, in a rather frightened 
way, of this curious “ trance,” which had now twice over- 
taken her in Stanley’s presence, when she became 
aware of the sudden commotion in the house ; and 
opening her door to inquire the cause, she heard Mrs. 
Hamilton giving wild directions about sending for a 
doctor. 

Dolores retreated into her room, as if she had received 
a blow. 

With appalling clearness, she felt what had taken 
place, and she was overcome with all the horror of one 
who has unwittingly but surely killed the dearest friend 
on earth. She sank into a chair and rocked to and fro 
in abject misery, wringing her hands and repeating 
over and over again : 

“ Maruja knowns ! Maruja has heard all ! What 
shall I do ? What shall I do ? It will kill her, and I 
shall be the unhappy cause ! Oh, why did I not go at 
first ? Why did I linger here after I saw the first sus- 
picion in her mind ? What fatal fascination — what 
misunderstood terror of that man — held me here ? If I 
had only listened to the inward prompting of my soul 
when I first saw him ! But I feared to leave her. I 
hoped to have helped her. I was in a maze of doubt 
and uncertainty. Even the intuition that has always 


A PLEASING ALTERNATIVE. 


227 


kept my spirit free in its darkest moments seemed 
cloucfed, so that I no longer understood its guid- 
ance. Then he came, and in that brief moment of our 
meeting it seemed as though our spirits touched. The 
soul looking out of his eyes into mine seemed the other 
half of my own, and to the last moment of existence I 
must feel that I am one with him and he with me. Ah, 
yes, now I know and shall know forever this is love 
and I love that man ?” 

Her thoughts flew to the night when Van Tassel 
had seemed to call on her for help, and to the moment 
when she had stood face to face with the stranger who 
had so suddenly come to the assistance of the unlucky 
professor, and there she paused. Though still in a state 
of horror unspeakable about Mary, she was still, in 
memory, gazing back into those wonderful eyes that 
held her own with a new, strange and delightful power, 
when Mrs. Hamilton’s summons sharply recalled her 
thoughts to the present. 

And now she knew, from the voice and manner of 
Maruja’s mother, that her worst suspicions were cor- 
rect ; but she attempted no justification, no explana- 
tion. With the swift decision that always characterized 
her in any emergency, she rose at once to meet it. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

A PLEASING ALTERNATIVE. 

When Clarence Stanley reached his room, the con- 
flicting feelings that had been agitating him since he 
met Dolores that day had all been merged into a burn- 
ing rage, and that emotion was now at a white heat. 


223 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


His first act was to collect into a heap, in the middle of 
the floor, all the books on mesmerism, clairvoyance and 
kindred subjects which Van Tassel had brought to him, 
he then relieved his feelings by kicking the lot, collec- 
tively and separately, swearing continuously in a strain 
calculated to turn the air blue all around him. 

“ Infernal rubbish !” he finally wound up, with a feel- 
ing of positive refreshment at this relief to his pent-up 
fury, mortification and disappointment. “ A pretty 
muddle I have made of the whole affair — putting my 
foot in it is nowhere ! I have jumped into the bog up 
to my waist, and every step I might make I would only 
flounder deeper. That idiot Van — he said I would burn 
my fingers, and I’ve done it ! Playing with fire, indeed ! 
I’ve made a regular bonfire, and I’m scorched to the 
eyebrows ! I’ve lost Polly and her millions — the one 
certain prize in the lottery. If Celestine gets another 
square look at me, it’s all up with the Honorable Clar- 
ence, and I may have to run for my life ; and as to the 
Mendoza treasure and the heiress, that is farther off 
than ever. But what is the mystery about that girl ? Is 
she a witch ? Did she magnetize me, or is Van right, 
and has she really some angelic protection beyond my 
power to control or understand ? Rubbish ! The 
whole thing is nonsense, even to my power over the sim- 
ple fool. He fears me and believes my will all-power- 
ful, because drink and opium have destroyed his own. 
Well, there, at least, I am safe, and I will use him for 
my advantage. For the rest, I must look things 
squarely in the face and make a new deal.” 

And, as if to facilitate this, a letter was at this moment 
handed in at the door, and the waiter delivered it with 
the words that it had been brought “ by messenger, 
with orders to put it directly into Mr. Stanley’s hands.” 

“A woman’s message, of course,” thought Stanley, 


A PLEASING ALTERNATIVE. 


229 


with a slight feeling of perturbation ; for he felt that in 
the eyes of the Hamilton family he was covered with 
the most shameful contempt, and might even expect to 
be called to very sharp account by Mary’s father. 
“ From Polly, I suppose. I can never see the girl again 
— no, not even if she were willing to forgive everything. 
A girl who could forgive that scene to-day would be 
insupportable. Not all old Hamilton’s millions could 
redeem her, though I am fond of gold.” 

This Stanley said to himself, with that curious desire 
to whitewash his character in his own eyes, that comes, 
at times, to the worst sort of men. In reality, he was 
wishing in his inmost heart that things might turn out 
so that he could make up with Polly, hasten their mar- 
riage and settle down to the comfortable possession of 
“ old Hamilton’s millions and as he turned the letter 
about and glanced at the address on it, he was con- 
scious of a distinct throb of disappointment at seeing 
that the handwriting was w^holly unknown to him. He 
tore it open at once and glanced at the signature, and 
his disappointment was changed to amazement and 
curiosity. 

“ Olive Gaye,” he read. “ Now, what on earth can 
that girl have to say to me ? She is a deep one, and it 
was she who brought Celestine to call on Polly Hamil- 
ton. What new complication is waiting for me ?” 

Dear Mr. Stanley ” — wrote Miss Gaye — “ I am 
sure you will pardon the liberty I take in addressing 
you when I explain the reason. I cannot feel, anyway, 
that we are strangers, having known your dear papa 
and the rest of the family so well, and being also aware 
of the unfortunate misunderstanding between you and 
your relatives. But for that, dear Mr. Stanley, I should 
not be in a position tP offer you the important news 


230 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


now in my possession, for you would have known it 
first. As it is, both you and the newspaper-reading 
public at large will be in possession of it — perhaps 
to-morrow morning ; and that is why I wish to say that 
it is absolutely necessary for your future happiness and com- 
fort that you should see me first. I shall remain at home 
all day, and I have given orders that no one shall 
interrupt the confidential conversation which I am now 
ready to have with. you. Do not, I beg of you, keep me 
waiting one minute longer than is absolutely necessary. 
It will be very impolite in you and very unflattering to 
me, but above all, it will be disastrous to your future.” 

This remarkable effusion then ended by the writer 
subscribing herself : 

“ Dear Mr. Stanley’s sincere and constant friend, 

“ Olive Gave.” 

Now, what in the devil’s name does she mean, or 
what does she want ?” exclaimed Stanley. “ There is a 
menace in this which I can partly guess at, remember- 
ing that she is, by tliis time, deep in Celestine’s confi- 
dence. But what is this particular information in 
regard to my family ? Well, I suppose the easiest way 
to answer that is not to keep her waiting ; for I may 
need all the information I can pick up in regard to my 
English family.” 

He read the letter carefully a second time, in order 
to impress it upon his memory, and then, having torn 
it into fragments, he was presently on his way to call 
on Olive Gaye. 

“ So good of you to come at once,” said Miss Ga5^e. 
“ I felt sure it would shock you less to hear of your 
bereavement from an old friend of the family than to 
have it come on you with the abruptness of mere tele- 


A PLEASING ALTERNATIVE. 


231 


graphic news from England, particularly as you did not 
even know of their illness. Poor Lord Appleby ! There 
has long been no hope, nor for the dear child, either ; 
but the boy died first, and within an hour the father. 
My news comes in the form of a cable dispatch, and, 
therefore, 1 have no particulars ; but, without doubt. 
Lord Appleby’s death was accelerated by the death of 
his heir and only child.” 

A slight exclamation escaped the lips of the Hon. 
Clarence Stanley, but he instantly repressed all signs of 
emotion and, slowly sinking into the chair indicated by 
his hostess when he first entered the room, he said : 

Do you mean. Miss Gaye, that my brother and his 
little son are both dead ?” 

“ Lord Appleby and his son are dead,” returned 
Olive, with special emphasis. 

“ Indeed !” exclaimed Clarence. “ I am shocked, 
truly, but I shall not pretend to any great grief. We 
have been long parted, you know. Miss Gaye.” 

“ Oh, yes, indeed !” assented Olive. 

“ And, since you know the affairs of my family so 
well, of course you know that I was never in sympathy 
with them, nor they with me.” 

“ I quite understand that,” said Olive. 

“ May I inquire from whom you have received your 
information, Miss Gaye ?” 

” The dispatch is from dear old Toddlekins, Mr. Stan- 
ley,” replied Olive, with a wicked smile. “ Dear old 
Toddlekins, whom you have so entirely forgotten. It 
would quite break her heart to know this, for she sim- 
ply adored Clarence Stanley. It was she who showed 
me the picture I told you of, you know, and the old 
darling has actually lent it to me.” 

She turned to an album on the table and took from it 
a photograph which was lying loose within the leaves. 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


232 

I find it is not nearly so good a likeness of you as I 
thought ; indeed, if you will pardon the compliment, it 
doesn’t do you justice. You are very much hand- 
somer ; but I’m afraid you are a sad deceiver, Mr. 
Stanley. See, now, here is written by the beloved hand 
of that Clarence whom she adored : ‘ To his dearly 
loved friend, Milicent Fairfax,’ and you cruelly declared 
that you didn’t remember her — indeed your manner 
implied that you were unconscious of her existence.” 

She held the picture close to her face for a moment, 
then her keen, bright, penetrating eyes looked over the 
top of it at the face of her companion that was now 
very pale, but set and defiant, and she only liked him 
the better for that look, as she thought : 

“ Yes, he will fight, and with me to back him we shall 
win, for we shall both fight.” 

“ It is a long time ago. Miss Gaye,” he said, seeing 
that she waited for an answer, “ and I have a poor 
memory, sometimes.” 

“Yes, so I have observed,” said Olive, “and yet — 
poor Celestine ! She remembers so well ; it was too 
cruel.” 

Her listener started violently ; but he wouldn’t yield 
yet. 

“Confound the woman !” he thought. “How much 
does she know And is it knowledge or suspicion ? 
What is her game ? I must know before I commit my- 
self.” 

“ Celestine ?” he repeated. “ Really, Miss Gaye, you 
have the advantage of me.” 

“Yes, indeed,” laughed Olive, “I think I have, Mr 
Carlos Mendoza.” 

The man before her cowered — instinctively his glance 
wavered, and he looked about as if for some means of 
escape ; but the next moment he “ pulled himself 


A PLEASING ALTERNATIVE. 


233 


together ” — Olive saw and admired the mental effort — 
and then he said, in cold incisive tones : 

“ Perhaps it would be better if we understood each 
other, without any further fencing, Miss Gaye ; and if 
we are going to row in the same boat let us pull in the 
same direction.” 

Olive gave a laugh, full of delighted appreciation. 

“ You are a man after my own heart, Carlos,” she 
said, “ and like enough to get it too.” 

“ Ah, thanks, if it is as good as your head. Miss Olive, 
it will be a prize for any man ; but let me suggest, my 
dear girl, that acquiring bad habits is'easier than get- 
ting rid of them. It might be a very bad habit to begin 
by calling me Carlos.” 

“You are right, dear Clarence — I shall not forget 
again.” 

For a few moments they looked each other squarely 
in the eyes, smiling ; then Olive replaced the photo- 
graph in the album. 

“I shall not need it any more,” she said, “I shall 
return it to Toddlekins — dear old soul ! She values it 
more than her life ; but I shall prefer a new one. 
Next time you call on me, Clarence, bring me a really 
good and satisfactory photograph of yourself, won’t 
you, dear ?” 

“ The best I can get, and now, dear Olive, tell me, 
how much do you know ?” 

“ Everything,” laughed Olive, “ absolutely every- 
thing — according to what the scientists call inductive 
reasoning. As to fact, plain, cold, hard fact — well, 
enough — quite enough to hang you, but not quite 
enough to save you. Now I fancy there may be side 
lights that you can turn on, which will change the 
more lurid colors into paler lines. According to Celes- 
tine, the man who was brought home to her, pierced 


234 


THE SPANISH TKEASIJKE. 


through as she supposed, with his own dagger, had 
been foully murdered.” 

There was no murder about it, nothing but a hand- 
to-hand fight, at a time and under circumstances when 
fights ending fatally were of daily occurrence. It was 
a fair fight, self-defense on the part of both. Had I 
not killed him, he would have killed me ; and your 
friend’s Clarence was a brave man and fought well ; 
and it was after he was dead that the idea of person- 
ating him came to me. The resemblance between us 
was extraordinary, so much so that I suspected some 
relationship and that we both belonged to the Mendoza 
family, even before I found the birthmark on his 
brow.” 

“ Which was a bright red, however, while on you it is 
black,” interrupted Olive. 

You are correct and also sharp,” said Stanley (or 
Mendoza if the reader prefers, though he continued to 
be known only as Clarence Stanley). Had Celestine 
been half as clever as you are, she would never have 
been deceived about the dead man. But I counted on 
her agitation and excitement, and the plan worked. 
With the assistance of Van Tassel, the man whom she 
called her brother, I changed clothes with the dead 
man, and took possession of his papers, letters, journals, 
etc., by means of which I have been able ever since to 
personate him. But among his papers I never found 
anything about this old maid whom you call Toddle- 
kins — ” 

“And several other things which I shall be able 
to tell you,” said Olive. “ Among others, there is an 
heir-at-law, a certain Lord Harold Moray, who is now in 
this country, in search of the Honorable Clarence Stan- 
ley, and who, in the event of his decease, is the next 
heir to the earldom and estates of Windermere.’ 


A PLEASING ALTERNATIVE. 


235 


“ The deuce !” exclaimed Stanley. “ 1 never heard of 
him !” 

“ So I supposed ; nor of his sister Constance, to whom 
Clarence Stanley was engaged when he left England.” 

“ There was nothing about either of them in any 
of the letters and papers I found,” said her listener 
aghast at these revelations. 

“ I guessed as much from my dear Toddlekins’s let- 
ters. But it would have been rather awkward had 
Lord Harold suddenly confronted you either here or 
in England.” 

‘‘ And it will be so still — deucedly awkward.” 

“ Not so bad as it might have been had you neglected 
to have this conversation with me. As it is, forewarned 
is forearmed, and you are quite too clever to be over- 
come by so small a difficulty as that.” 

“ I am not so sure. A few more such shocks and 
tumbles as I have had of late will shake my nerves.” 

Not a bit of it, with me to steady you,” said Olive. 
“ You see, I intend to be the Countess of Windermere ; 
and, although the old earl is madly in love with me and 
plaguing me to death to marry him, 1 have taken 
a fancy to have a young husband. If your nerve fails 
you now, you lose Polly Hamilton ; for Celestine will 
yet learn the truth. You lose all chance of the Men- 
doza treasure ” (again her listener winced and asked 
himself : “ Is there anything this girl doesn’t know ?”) 
“ and you lose the estates and title of Earl of Winder- 
mere. The alternative is simply — ” 

She paused and smiled bewitchingly. 

“ To marry you and gain all that is worth having,” 
said her companion, filling that pause. “ Truly a pleas- 
ing alternative, and I think I will accept it. But now to 
arrange a plan of action and prepare for all possible 


^36 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


contingencies. What do you know of the Mendoza 
treasure ?” 

“ Only what I have heard incidentally from remarks 
dropped by Polly Hamilton, and later from Celestine, 
that your first knowledge of her was made through the 
hope of finding out something about its hiding-place.” 

“ In which I was confoundedly taken in ; but no mat- 
ter ! I know all about it now, and together you and I 
will go to California and search for it. You are the 
cleverest woman I ever met in my life, and I shall end 
by being as madly in love with you as — ahem — the old 
earl, my father.” 

Olive smiled serenely, and began to think the partner 
of her ambitious plans a most charming person. 

“ With the Mendoza fortune and the Windermere 
estates and title,” continued the Honorable Clarence, 
“ we can rival the state of any prince and princess.” 

“ Precisely what I have been thinking, my dear Clar- 
ence, ever since I received old Toddlekins’s message. 
But there are several lions in the way. First you have 
to break with Polly Hamilton — ” 

“ That is over and done with,” was the prompt reply. 

‘‘ And then there is the recognition, or lack of recog- 
nition, on the part of Lord Moray and his sister. 
That, I think, you can deal with on the score of long 
absence ; and if the lady is troublesome, it can be set 
down to jealousy and revenge, because you have broken 
your engagement and married a brighter and cleverer 
girl. I don’t fear the Morays at all — 1 can deal with 
them — also the old earl, as he always hated you and 
will now add the rage of jealousy to his original hate, 
when you re-appear in the character of my husband. 
There will, however, be one pair of eyes that cannot be 
blinded ; there will be no deceiving Toddlekins. But 
she adores me, and I shall tell her, with my arms about 


A PLEASING ALTERNATIVE. 


237 


her neck, that you and I are one ; that she cannot 
injure you without injuring me doubly, and that will 
settle it. Toddlekins will give us no trouble. But, last 
of all, there is Celestine. That woman adores you, 
Carlos — I mean, Clarence — and the extraordinary 
resemblance between these two men is working in her 
mind like yeast in flour. If a living Clarence can so 
resemble her dead Carlos, why might not a dead Clarence 
resemble her living Carlos ! Already that is to her the 
one vital question of her life, and the truth will dawn 
on her before long.” 

A ferocious look overspread the smiling face of the 
man who had been listening with admiration to the 
unfolding of a mind keener and deeper than his own to 
scheme and plan. Olive had a momentary spasm of 
alarm at this glimpse into a dark and cruel nature. 
But she had now no thought of drawing back. Ambi- 
tion was her ruling passion, as the love of gold was his ; 
and she only trembled for a moment when he said, 
fiercely : 

“ Celestine ! She will never stand in my way ! I 
will take care of Celestine !” 

“ Ah ! Then there is nothing more, I think.” And 
Olive rose and held out her hand. “ I have kept you a 
long time, but it will save all future mistakes. Come 
again in the evening ; I want to introduce you to my 
uncle. It may be useful.” 

Stanley gallantly raised her hand to his lips, and felt 
that he was now, at last, on the high-road to success. 
When the door had closed behind him, Olive ran lightly 
to her room, seated herself at her writing-desk and 
scrawled, with her left hand, a brief, anonymous mes- 
sage. 

“ I don’t know what his plan in regard to Celestine 
may be,” she thought. “ My good Clarence ! He is 


238 


THE SPANISH TEEASUHE. 


immensely gifted, but he has a way of just missing suc- 
cess. Now, with my assistance, we will change all that, 
so that he will hit the bull’s-eye every time." 

She hastily scrawled an address on the back of her 
letter : 


The Baron Von Helmholtz, 

No. nd Street, West, 

New York City. 


For this letter she summoned no servant, but, going 
out for a walk, she presently dropped it, with her own 
small steady hand, into a pillar-box, and drew a quick 
breath of relief. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

A girl’s first love. 

When Dolores entered Mary Hamilton’s room, she 
found the latter, still tremulous and weak, seated in her 
favorite chair — a deep, wide bamboo chair, almost as 
large as a lounge and filled with bright-colored, silk- 
covered cushions. Dolores had come quickly, feeling 
that if she paused to think she would never have the 
courage to seek her at all ; and now, with the impetus 
of that thought still on her, she entered and went 
swiftly toward her friend, only to stop suddenly and 
quite overcome at the sight of the white and stricken 
face before her ; for Polly had risen to her feet and had 
come forward a step or two to meet her. 


A girl’s first love. 


239 


For quite a half-minute, the two girls stood and 
looked deep into each other’s eyes, Polly pleading, 
pathetic, submissive, and Dolores suddenly strong and 
helpful, for she had expected tears and passionate 
reproaches, such as she knew not how to meet or 
answer. But what she found was so entirely different, 
that it helped her in what she had already decided that 
she must do. 

Instinctively she opened her arms as a mother might 
have approached a grieved child, and Mary flung her- 
self into that protecting, loving embrace. 

“ Oh, Lorita !” she said, her arms clinging about the 
other girl’s neck and her head resting on her shoulder. 
“ He loves you ! He loves you ! How am I to bear it?” 

“ No, Maruja, he does not love me,” returned Dolores, 
with an accent of calm conviction, that had an imme- 
diate effect on her listener. 

Mary Hamilton had, from the moment of their first 
meeting, felt such confidence in Dolores that, as she 
had always declared, her very presence was tranquiliz- 
ing and gave her a feeling of strength and security, as 
if her spirit were raised above the ordinary, every-day 
world. She experienced that effect now, with an inde- 
scribable sense of being restored to life and happiness, 
much as if she had been awakened from a horrible 
but too real dream. She could not forget the words she 
had heard, but, surely, she had strangely misunderstood 
the meaning of them. She sank back again into her 
chair, but she drew Dolores down beside her, and, with 
her arm close about her, she said in a questioning voice, 
but with a manner of perfect faith : 

“ I heard his words, dear. He said that he loved you, 
and — oh, Lorita — that he had never loved any other 
woman !” 


i 


240 


THE SPANISH TEEASURE. 


“ I know it, Marnja — but it was idle talk-^hat man 
never really loved me — he is not capable of it." 

Mary drew away from her a moment and looked at 
her questioningly ; and Dolores paused in what she 
had been saying. She had been tempted to add : “ He 

is incapable of loving any one, and it is profaning the 
word to speak it with his name,” but she felt that this 
would be useless now ; so far, opposition to Clarence 
Stanley had, as is usual in such cases, only increased 
Polly Hamilton’s passion. With a half impatient sigh 
Dolores continued : 

“ What he imagined to be his love for me is simply a 
mania to possess the great treasure of the Mendozas — 
a treasure which does, indeed, belong to me if it is ever 
found, and which no man or woman can truly possess 
and keep except through its rightful owner ; but I 
shall never seek it. The man you are unfortunate 
enough to love, Maruja, sees in me simply the possessor 
of untold treasures, the charm of which is, perhaps, 
increased and exaggerated by the romantic family 
history of which I gave him the details. How I regret 
that I did so I How I wish I had then understood 
myself better — as I do now. I hoped the story of the 
wicked and treacherous Pedro Mendoza might have 
been a warning to him — ” 

“ Lorita !” interrupted Polly, reproachfully. “ You 
are very bitter against Clarence. ” 

“ That cannot be news to you, Maruja ; you have 
known from the first my aversion toward Mr. Stanley.” 

“ But I thought you had grown to like him better— to 
do him something more like justice, Rita — indeed, I 
have even thought that you — were falling in love with 
him, and it has troubled me greatly, and now I will say 
what has been in my thoughts to say more than once, 
dear Rita.” Dolores would have interrupted her, but 


A girl’s first love. 


241 


Polly placed her fingers on the half-opened lips, while 
she continued with eager, breathless, loving imperious- 
ness : “ No, I have set out to say this thing, Rita, and 

1 must have it off my mind ; I would never have cour- 
age another time. I have feared that you loved Clar- 
ence — it seemed so natural that any woman should love 
him, and it seemed more than natural that he should 
love you ; for how could anyone help loving you, Rita, 
so beautiful, so noble, and seeing you every day. I 
was sometimes mad with jealously, and yet, in the very 
depths of my heart, Lorita, I love you so well that I 
would give him to you, rather than you should be 
unhappy. And that is what I want to say, dear, if you 
really love Clarence, take him ! I give him to you ! 
Only be frank with me ! Tell me the truth !” 

Dolores at first replied only with a look glowing with 
grateful affection ; but she perceived at once that she 
must put her feeling regarding Stanley into the plainest 
words, in order that Polly Hamilton might never again 
misunderstand it. 

“ Maruja, darling,” she said, “ how can I thank you 
for such a proof of your love ? It is far more than risk- 
ing your precious life to save mine. I can only ask you 
to forgive the plain words I use in answering you. It 
is not merely that I do not and never could under any 
circumstances love Clarence Stanley — that gives no 
idea of my feeling in the matter — I loathe him!" 

Mary drew away in the greatest surprise, rather than 
from offense. 

“ I cannot understand it,” she said, puzzled. “ I can 
comprehend that you might disapprove of Clarence, 
that you might misunderstand him or feel bitterly 
toward him ; but that you or any one should find him 
personally disagreeable ! He is the handsomest and 
most pleasing man I ever knew. Tell me, dear, are you 


242 


THE SPANISH TEEASUKE. 


quite sure you don’t mistake your own feelings ? Is 
not such intense and bitter dislike a form of love in dis- 
guise ?” 

Dolores laughed outright — the merriest sound that 
Polly had heard for a long time — and then she said : 

“ It is well disguised, my dear, and I shall never be 
able to recognize it for anything but the most unmiti- 
gated dislike. Besides that, Maruja, I will confess to 
you what I had hardly dared admit to myself. I love — 
how shall I say it ? — I love one, whom to look on only 
once — for I have seen him but for a fleeting moment — 
is to adore in an instant and forever.” 

** Oh, Rita, how delightful ! Who is he ?” 

“ Also I do not know ; I may never see him again ; I 
may never so much as hear his name, but I shall love 
him forever, and something in my deepest thoughts 
tells me that he loves me.” 

“ Ah, now I am satisfied, Rita. JVo7u I can under- 
stand that you cannot love Clarence. But if he loves 
you, Rita ?” 

“ Trust me, dear. He does not — ^he never will — and 
when he no longer sees me, there will not be even the 
shadow of such a fancy to mar your happiness.” 

She would have said more, but she saw that any 
further conversation would lead to more than she now 
wished to say ; and, rising hastily, she kissed Mary 
hurriedly, but with passionate tenderness. Then she 
hastened from the room. But, before closing the door, 
she came back and took Polly Hamilton once more in 
her arms ; and the girl remembered afterward that she 
embraced her solemnly. 

” Adieu, Maruja I” she said. “ My one dear, true 
friend. Love me always, Maruja, and never forget me ! 
Dear girl !” 

She drew her passionately to her heart, and Polly felt 


A girl’s first lovk. 


a strange sadness in that embrace, as if her friend were 
saying a long farewell instead of going to her room. 

Scarcely had Dolores gone, when Mrs. Hamilton 
sought her daughter ; and if Polly had not been sunk 
in thought she would have seen at a glance that her 
mother was in a state of suppressed excitement, of a 
different nature from the painful anxiety which had 
been distressing her in regard to Polly’s mysterious 
illness. 

Now that her child had recovered from that dreadful 
swoon, and had been declared in no danger from any 
unknown illness, Mrs. Hamilton had grown compara- 
tively calm ; and by the time her husband had returned 
from his customary business duties, her tranquility had 
so far come back that she decided to say nothing about 
the illness that had so alarmed her. After all, perhaps, 
it had been some girlish quarrel, and when she had 
talked it over with Dolores she would certainly feel bet- 
ter. Girls must be girls, and if it was a lover's quarrel, 
of course, Polly would tell her all about it some time. 
Meanwhile, she had picked up an evening paper which 
Mr. Hamilton had thrown on the table, and she mechan- 
ically glanced at it while counting the minutes till 
Dolores should leave Mary’s room. Suddenly the paper 
rustled violently in Mrs. Hamilton’s hand, and she read 
over and over again a certain paragraph which had 
caught her eye. 

Now, as she entered her daughter’s room, Mrs. Ham- 
ilton still had the evening paper tightly clutched in her 
hand, and a glance at Mary served to reassure her in 
regard to the trouble, whatever it might have been, 
which had so distressed her. 

“ Well, Polly, you are better, dear ? What was the 
trouble ? Was Dolores the cause of it ?” 

“ Oh, mamma, it was all a mistake and Dolores is an 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


M4: 

angel !” was the quick reply. He doesn t love her. 
She knows that he does not. And, oh, I can t talk any 
more about it just now ! It has nearly killed me ! But 
I think, after all, I love Rita more than I could ever love 
any man,” 

Mrs. Hamilton smiled, and did not contradict a state- 
ment that seemed too absurd for consideration. 

“ The dear girl ! I am sorry to have done her any 
injustice, Polly, and I shall tell her so. But you fright- 
ened me horribly, my darling child, and you are all 1 
have in the world. Let us say no more, however, since 
there seems to have been a mistake. And now look at 
this, and tell me what ought to be done.” 

She put the evening’s paper into the hand of Polly 
and pointed to the paragraph which she had found of 
such engrossing interest, and Mary read it : 

“ Wanted — The heir to an English earldom. The 
cable brings us the news, this afternoon, of the death of 
Lord Appleby and his only child, a beautiful and inter- 
esting boy of six years. Lord Appleby was the eldest 
son and heir of the Earl of Windermere. A second son, 
the Hon. Clarence Stanley, if still living, is now the heir 
to the title and estates ; but nothing has been heard of 
him for many years, and it is supposed that he died in 
California, where he was last heard of. Failing an heir 
in the direct succession, the title and estates will pass to 
a distant branch of the family.” 

Polly dropped the paper with a sigh. 

“ How unfortunate !” she said. 

“ ‘ Unfortunate ?’ ” repeated Mrs. Hamilton. 

“Yes, if I had thought of forgiving Clarence, I 
couldn’t say so now ; it would look too much like being 
bought by his title.” 


A GIRL S FIRST LOVE. 


245 


“ What nonsense, Polly ! As if Clarence could ever 
mistake your motives ! Does he not know that you love 
him ?” 

“ He may have known it, mamma, hitherto, for 
Heaven knows I did love him — once. But my feelings 
have had a severe wrench, and 1 have been thinking 
deeply, for a few minutes, since Rita left me. First 
there was that scene with Mrs. Helmholtz, which upset 
me more than I cared to admit at the time.” 

“ Nonsense, Polly !” exclaimed Mrs. Hamilton, “ Are 
you losing your senses ? Is Clarence to blame because 
a half-crazy creature — you called her so yourself — imag- 
ines a resemblance between him and her dead hus- 
band ?” 

“ And I heard him making love to Rita. She declares 
he didn’t mean it, but 1 heard his words all the same ; 
and though she repulsed him, and she did repul .se him, 
and she loathes him ! Now, mamma, you know there 
must be something very wrong about a man when a 
girl like Rita says that she loathes him.” 

Mrs. Hamilton felt herself ready to choke with the 
revulsion of feeling caused by these inexplicable words, 
and finding language inadequate to express the chaotic 
condition of her mind, she was reduced to silence. 

But this could not continue. She felt that she must 
speak before Polly should give utterance to something 
yet more incomprehensible, and, by a happy chance, 
she remembered Doctor Macdonald’s prescription. 

“ My dear,” she said, “ you have had a trying day, 
and I think you are feverish. I will go to prepare the 
medicine the doctor ordered. You know you promised 
to take it.” 

And Polly drank the bitter stuff, making many wry 
faces as she did so ; and Mrs. Hamilton put her to bed 


246 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


and tucked her in as she had done when she was a little 
child, and then she sat by her till she fell asleep. 

After that she talked over with her husband the for- 
eign news which had so interested her, and incidentally 
she mentioned that there had been “ some mysterious 
kind of a quarrel” between the lovers. 

“ And Polly is mighty cool about it,” she concluded, 
“ and perhaps it is just as well she is, for it will teach 
Lord Clarence Stanley a lesson. But that is no reason 
why we, you and I, my dear, should not write to Clar- 
ence and offer our congratulations.” 

“ Congratulations !” laughed Mr. Hamilton, “ con- 
gratulate a man on the death of his nearest relatives 

“Very well, then — condolences !” said Mrs. Hamilton. 
“ But what is the use of humbug ? We know how they 
all hate each other in that family. But to send a mes- 
sage to Clarence will be sure to bring him here, and if 
Polly once sees him she will forgive him as soon as he 
asks her.” 

“ All right,” said Mr. Hamilton, with easy good 
nature. “ Suppose I go over to the hotel and call on 
Clarence ? That will be the best way, and incidentally 
111 tell him I have something about this Chicago busi- 
ness to talk with him about to-morrow.” 

“Just the thing!” assented Mrs. Hamilton. And 
when her husband had started on this mission, she gave 
herself up to dreams of the future glory of the young 
Countess of Windermere. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 
love’s martyrdom. 

Mary Hamilton said truly when she told her mother 
that she had experienced a revulsion of feeling in 
regard to Clarence Stanley ; but wishing to spare the 
heart that had even loved her entirely, she had not told 
all the truth. She had, indeed, been shocked and 
horrified by the words she had heard him speak to 
Dolores ; and she had, insensibly, thought a score of 
things too terrible to put into form in regard to the 
apparent recognition of him by Madame Helmholtz. 
Had he, in years past, met that beautiful woman and 
wooed her under an assumed name ? Could it be pos- 
sible that in a moment of infatuation he had even gone 
so far as to marry her, and afterward, learning the mis- 
take he had made, had he repudiated her ? Or had he 
supposed her dead and so, believing himself free, had 
he felt himself at liberty to love and marry again ? 
Such things happened in stories, as Polly knew, though 
she w’as not much given to reading them, and they hap- 
pened in real life, too, as she also knew, for the news- 
papers constantly gave accounts of just such things and 
of frightful domestic tragedies in consequence of them ! 
She shuddered with horror at these thoughts, and forci- 
bly thrust them from her, as the grotesque chimeras of 
her own excited imagination. 


[247] 


248 


THE SPANISH TEEASUKE. 


But now, Spurred by the remembrance of that inter- 
view of which she had been a witness ; maddened by 
the recollection of the passionate avowal to which she 
had listened — all these thoughts came trooping back, 
and brought many new ones, and the poor girl’s heart 
throbbed and burned with pain, and her very soul 
seemed torn with throes of anguish. And above all 
was the agony of wasted love and an unconquerable 
jealousy that ate into the very springs of her being 
and never ceased to whisper : 

‘‘ He loves Dolores — he loves Dolores ! And he has 
never really loved you.” 

It was well enough for Dolores to insist that Stanley 
did not love her — that his avowal was prompted merely 
by his passion for money and his desire to gain posses- 
sion of the mysterious and wonderful Mendoza treas- 
ure ! But the tones of his voice still rang in Polly’s 
ears, and the passionate intensity with which he had 
declared his love was in striking and very painful con- 
trast to the tranquil and common-place manner that 
had ever characterized his love-making to herself. 
And then, with a bitter sense of humiliation, Mary 
remembered how, for nearly two years past, Clarence 
Stanley had been an intimate of her family — coming 
and going as he chose, never declaring himself her 
lover and formally asking her in marriage after the 
manner of other men, and yet constantly devoted in 
such a way as to keep all others aloof until their 
engagement was finally accepted as a matter of course 
by outsiders. How like now, by the light of recent 
events, this looked to the conduct of a man who had 
been calmly calculating chances ; and who had, at last, 
been driven by force of circumstances, rather than by 
any ardor of feeling, into an avowal of attachment. 

All the evening, after her mother had left her — for 


LOVERS MARTYRIX)M. 


^49 


her sleep was soon over — and far into the night, Mary 
Hamilton reviewed her acquaintance with Clarence 
Stanley ; and much that had so often seemed strenge, 
even to her partial judgment, showed all too clearly 
now — but in dark and lurid colors. 

“ Oh, Rita ! Rita !” groaned the unhappy girl, writh- 
ing in pain so great that it was worse to endure than 
physical suffering. “ Is it you whom I have loved above 
all other women except my mother — is it you, dear Rita, 
that has brought me this great sorrow ? For it is idle 
to conceal from myself that the bitterest drop in this 
most bitter cup is the knowledge that Clarence loves 
Rita and has never loved me ! And I had so dreamed of 
a great love — a deep, intense, still, undying affection — 
a love, whose very depth and steadfastness would have 
been at once awful and beautiful. It was such a love 
that I felt for him. And I thought his love for me was 
the same. I cheated myself with the hope that this tran- 
quil appearance of tenderness only indicated the depth 
and intensity of his nature. I did not think him capable 
of a sudden, uncontrollable outbreak of passionate adora- 
tion such as he expressed to Rita. And, oh, what avails 
it to tell me that it was but momentary and that he did, 
not mean it ? I heard his words, I saw his face ; and 
never can I forget the tones of his voice or the ardent 
fire of his looks ! Oh, Rita ! Rita ! That it should be 
you — -you, to break my heart ! You, who saved my life, 
to crush it with a death so far more cruel than the 
trampling of horses over my mangled body ! Why, 
why did you interpo.se to save me for this misery ? 
Clarence, Clarence, love of my life, why did I not die 
then, believing in you and never doubting your truth 
and honor ?” 

Again and again, through the weary watches of the 
night, did these thoughts, in every conceivable varia- 


250 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


tion, chase each other through this poor girl’s tortured 
fancy, till, quite worn out, at last she fell asleep from 
exhaustion ; but not until another and yet sadder day 
had already begun to dawn. 

It was late in the morning, and the household had 
already breakfasted, when Mary Hamilton awoke to 
that poignant realization of ever-present suffering 
which comes like a dagger-thrust on first returning to 
wakefulness after bitter sorrow. She woke with a long- 
drawn, moaning sigh — a sound which struck, like a blow, 
her mother, who was standing beside the bed, waiting 
for the dear eyes she loved to unclose. 

“ Oh, mamma !” exclaimed Polly, with a rush of recol- 
lection which sent the tears to her eyes ; and then, 
catching the distressed look on Mrs. Hamilton’s face, the 
daughter bravely smiled through her tears, though with 
a sinking heart, for she saw in one swift glance a new 
and utterly desperate sorrow in her mother’s face. 

“ How soundly I have slept !” she exclaimed, with an 
affectation of entire forgetfulness of the past night and 
all its suffering. “ It is long since I have slept so late 
in the morning. Perhaps I shall actually become a 
fashionable girl at last and sleep as late as Bertha Sef- 
ton. But what is the matter, mamma, dear ? You look 
troubled about something. No accident to any one, I 
hope .!*” 

Mrs. Hamilton did not immediately respond. This 
affectation of cheerfulness on the part of her daughter 
did not deceive her. She was keenly aware of the dark 
circles around Mary’s heavy eye, the pathetic pallor of 
her usually bright and laughing face, and she knew not 
how to break with sufficient gentleness and care a piece 
of news which she quite feared to tell and yet felt that 
she alone could tell to her heart-broken child. It was 
with an answering moan of suffering and sorrow that 


LOVE S MARTYEDOM. 


251 


she at first replied to Mary’s words, at which the latter, 
unable any longer to disguise her own anxiety, exclaimed 
in a voice of piercing entreaty : 

“What has happened, mamma? What new misfor- 
tune has come upon us ? Has any harm come to Clar- 
ence ? Is h.e ill ? Is he dead ?” 

“ Would to heaven that he had been dead before you 
ever saw his false and treacherous face !” exclaimed 
Mrs. Hamilton, bitterly. 

“ Ah ! Then he is not dead ! Thank God for that !” 
cried Mary, as she suddenly sat up in bed, as if that 
very thought had brought renewed life and strength. 

Mrs. Hamilton realized more acutely than before how 
her child’s very life seemed wrapped in the welfare of 
the man who had, as she now felt convinced, horribly 
and cruelly deceived them all from the very first day. 

“ Since Clarence is not dead,” Mary went on, with 
forced calmness and quite oblivious of the fact that she 
had but a few hours ago expressed almost entire indif- 
ference to him, “ nothing can be so very bad. Is he ill, 
then ? Has any accident happened to him ?” 

“ So far as I know, he is well and safe. He is sure to 
take exceedingly good care of himself at all times, and 
more especially now since he has become Lord Stanley 
and the heir to an earldom,” said Mrs. Hamilton, her 
words and tones unconsciously betraying increased 
bitterness. “ It is not of Lord Stanley that I have 
come to speak, Polly, dear. At least, not of him first. 
Dolores has — ” 

“ Rita !” exclaimed Mary, sharply, a strange mixture 
of relief and alarm in her voice. “ Oh, mamma, dear, 
no harm has come to Rita ?” 

Mrs. Hamilton sank helplessly into a chair, and, 
without knowing what she did, crushed and crumpled a 
letter which she had been holding in her hand. Since 


252 


THE SPANISFI TREASURE. 


the early years of her married life, when she had lost 
her first children, she had not known such grief as now 
beset her, and she was bewildered by the suddenness of 
it, for she neither knew how to bear her own share of it 
nor yet how to help Polly to bear hers. It was a new 
and very bitter kind of grief. 

“ Mamina,” cried Mary, “ why do you not answer 
me ? What has happened to Lorita ? Is she dead 
Has she killed herself ?” 

‘‘ No harm has come to her,” answered Mrs. Hamil- 
ton, with smiling and bitter contempt. “ You dear, 
innocent child ! No one is sacrificing life or comfort 
to spare you, though you would have died for either of 
them. Dolores is neither dead nor ill nor dying. She 
has simply eloped. That’s all.” 

“ ‘ Eloped !’ ” repeated the girl, stupidly, as though 
the word possessed no meaning for her. “ ‘ Eloped !’ 
And with whom !” 

“Aye, with whom? That is the question. But 
there can be little doubt now as to the companion of 
her flight. She is gone, and he is gone, too, and the 
natural inference is, after what took place yesterday, 
that they have gone together. Dolores, the girl of 
whom you made a sister — the girl whom I treated as a 
daughter and loved next to yourself — has eloped with 
the man who was betrothed to you. Clarence Stanley 
and Dolores have gone together.” 

“ ril never believe it !” exclaimed Mary Hamilton. 
“ I could not believe it ! No, not if she stood here 
before me and confessed the perfidy with her own lips. 
She is all truth and honor. Clarence may— yes, although 
I have adored him — I will adm.it that Clarence Stanley 
may be false ; but Dolores — never !” 

“ You are infatuated about that girl,” said Mrs. Ham- 


love’s martyrdom. 


253 


ilton, unable to suppress a jealous pang. “ I believe you 
love her more than you love me.” 

Mary, who had slipped from the bed and hastily 
thrown on a wrapper and thrust her white feet into 
slippers, drew an ottoman close to her mother ; and, 
sinking down upon it, with her hands resting on her 
mother’s knee, now looked up with a face full of confid- 
ing love. 

“ No, darling mamma, not better ; that would be 
impossible,” she murmured. “ But almost as well ; and 
better, perhaps, than I could have loved a real sister, 
had Heaven given me one. I cannot believe any ill of 
Dolores. If ever a perfectly true, pure spirit was sent 
on earth to do good to all who came within her influence, 
it is Dolores. To lose her love and to lose my faith in 
her would be more than I could bear now, along with 
everything else.” 

Mrs. Hamilton smothered an impatient sigh. She 
could not comprehend her daughter’s devotion to this 
stranger, now that Dolores was, without doubt, proved 
her rival, and also her successful rival ; for Mrs. Ham- 
ilton had reasons, not yet given to Polly, for feeling 
quite convinced that Dolores had grossly imposed on 
those who had in every way sought to befriend her. 

“Tell me all there is to tell about Dolores,” Mary 
continued, after a few moment’s silence. 

“ It is little enough, but it means a great deal,” said 
Mrs. Hamilton. “ Frances, the girl who specially 
waited on her, gave me this letter but an hour ago. 
Read it for yourself.” 

She hurriedly smoothed out the crumpled paper and 
gave it into her daughter’s tremulous hands. 

For a moment Polly hesitated before reading this 
letter. What did it contain, this potent slip of paper 
that had meant so much to her mother ? Would th§ 


254 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


words there written forever crush her confidence in 
both friend and lover ? Oh, how bitter life was becom- 
ing ! Was there no truth, no loyalty in woman, no 
chivalry nor honor left in man ? Was the whole world 
a cruel lie ? 

Then, with characteristic decision and the determin- 
ation of real strength to know the worst at once, Polly 
Hamilton read the letter, and found that it did, indeed, 
“ mean a great deal,” as her mother had said ; but not 
in the same sense as that in which Mrs. Hamilton had 
meant the words. 

The note had been addressed to Mrs. Hamilton, not 
to Polly ; and had the anxious and perplexed mother 
read it at another time, when her mind had been 
unclouded by the bitterness of grief and disappointment, 
she could not have so entirely misunderstood the writer. 

This was what Dolores had written : 

To you who have treated me as kindly, as gener- 
ously as if I had been your own child, though I came to 
you a stranger, and almost a waif out of the streets, I 
write these farewell words rather than to our dear Polly, 
because I hope that you will understand them and think 
that what I am doing is the best and only way. Mr. 
Stanley, who is, as I believe, more truly attached to 
Polly than to any one else — Darling Polly ! Who 
could help loving her ? Even such men as Clarence 
Stanley appreciate the love of pure, good women, such 
as my dearly loved Maruja — But I will not offend you 
by speaking against him. As I was going to say, Mr. 
Stanley imagines for a moment that he loves me. Per- 
haps he does not even imagine it, but only hoped to 
flatter an inexperienced young woman by a pretended 
passion in order to obtain the Mendoza treasure ; but 
even if he was sincere in his protestations of love for 


love’s martyrdom. 


255 


he deludes himself*, and the influence I have so 
unintentionally thrown over him will vanish as suddenly 
as it came when he no longer sees me. For that reason 
I am going away, now, without even saying good-bye 
to any of you, because I know that Maruja would pro- 
test against it, and the object of my departure would be 
lost if any one could trace me. In the happy future 
that will come to Marjua — dear, sweet little sister, as I 
love to think of her — I will some day send her news of 
myself ; and, in the meaniime, let no one be anxious 
about me. The generous allowance you have insisted 
on paying me for Polly’s Spanish lessons provides me 
with more money than I shall need, and I have made 
an engagement with an old friend of mamma’s happy 
youth, who is returning to California, and who needs a 
governess for her two little girls. I heard of her a 
couple of weeks ago, and would have spoken of her then, 
but thought best not to do so, for I had thought of tak- 
ing this step some time ago — How I wish now that I 
.had done so ! I feared, but did not wish to believe in 
the nature of Mr. Stanley’s feelings toward me ! I had a 
horror of misunderstanding the whole situation, and also 
of being misunderstood, for it seemed to me very silly 
and vain to suppose myself the object of attention from 
a man who was engaged to another girl, and especially 
one so good and lovely as Polly Hamilton. I go now, 
however, and I can only say again how I wish I had 
gone sooner ; and again a thousand times how I love 
and thank you all for your goodness to a friendless, 
unknown, lonely girl. “ Dolores.” 

Mary looked up with moistened eyes and quivering 
lips when she had finished reading the letter. 

“ How can you doubt Lorita, mamma ? How can you 
imagine that she has gone away with Clarence ? It is 


m 


TEIE (SPANISH TREASURE. 


a heart-breaking letter to me. The effort to be calm 
and self-possessed when she was suffering torture ! The 
attempt at formal phrases, that you might not guess 
how much the writing of that letter cost her ! Oh, it 
is the most pathetic thing I ever read !” 

I cannot see any pathos in it at all, Polly. It is 
extremely well-considered, and strikes me as the com- 
position of an experienced woman of the world.” 

Polly almost laughed, 

“‘An experienced woman of the world!’” she 
repeated. “ My guileless Lorita ! You might as well 
apply the words to an angel. But the whole manner 
and tone of the letter only prove to me the constraint 
that Rita had put on her feelings to make her write 
like that. Oh, to have her leave me like this ! It is 
worse even than — than — the other grief ! How did she 
go } Where has she gone ? Alone and friendless in this 
cruel world ; perhaps as destitute and even more 
unhappy than when she first came to us.” 

“ But she has money, Polly. What she says is true- 
about that. Both your father and I gave her all the 
money she would accept, under the pretense of those 
Spanish lessons. And you furnished her wardrobe ; so 
that she had no occasion to spend a dollar for anything 
in all these months. It is true she has taken nothing 
with her, except such things as were gifts, especially 
from you ; and Frances says she selected everything 
you had chosen or had admired when she wore it. All 
the rest remain — ” 

“ Oh, Mamma ! And doesn’t that show !” interrupted 
Mary. 

“ But it will be easy for Lord Clarence Stanley to 
give his wife a trousseau^" said Mrs. Hamilton, with con- 
temptuous insistence. “ You don’t consider that they 
have gone together. Last night, your father, after 


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love’s martyrdom. 


257 


reading the news I told you of, went to the hotel to call 
on Clarence, and — he was gone ! Gone and no news of 
him to explain why, or where he had betaken himself ; 
for when your father made inquiries he could only 
ascertain that orders had been given to forward all let- 
ters to the previous address in Chicago, and the carriage 
engaged to convey him and his luggage had left him at 
the depot, where he was to take the train for the West.” 

“ But, mamma — ” began Polly Hamilton, and then 
paused abruptly, unable to proceed. 

She had tried to bear this final blow to all the hopes 
she had unconsciously cherished with courage sufficient, 
at least, to disguise her suffering from her mother ; but 
it was too much at first, and she could not command 
her voice. She had been pale enough before, but now 
every vestige of color forsook her face and she was like 
a wilted snowdrop as her head fell forward on her 
mother’s knee, and she could only sob forth : 

“ Oh, mamma, mamma ! Then he has gone ! He 
has really left me, and he will not return ! He thinks 
I cannot forgive the words I heard him speak to 
Dolores, and he does not care enough to try. Oh, Clar- 
ence ! Clarence ! How shall I bear the loss of you ? 
Rita ! Rita ! Why have you left me ?” 

Mrs. Hamilton could only wring her hands in misery. 
She dare not say anything further of what she still 
believed to be the heartless treachery of Dolores ; 
indeed, she blamed herself that she had said so much ; 
but, though cruel, it was surely the truest kindness that 
Polly should know the truth. She drew the girl’s head to 
her heart, and holding her there, she wept with her, 
and said with all the comfort she could find : 

“ Be a brave girl ! Your mother loves you, darling — 
your mother and your father. We are still the truest 
friends and we will never betray you.” 



CHAPTER XXV. 

MASTER AND SLAVE. 

m 

After leaving Olive Gaye, Clarence Stanley returned 
to his hotel and made somewhat ostentatious prepara- 
tions for a journey. Having then paid his bill, he was 
driven, with his luggage, to the depot, with all possible 
haste, to get the first train for Chicago ; but before 
boarding the train he changed his mind, congratulating 
himself, with a smile, that he had not yet bought his 
ticket, and was hurriedly driven in an entirely different 
direction and to a part of the town in no way resemb- 
ling the fashionable street in which he had been living 
for some weeks. 

All this had occupied several hours, and although he 
had been very busy. Lord Clarence had, notwithstand- 
ing, given a good deal of thought to the possible future 
as it now loomed up in the distance and to the lady who 
had elected to share that future with him. He was rap- 
idly acquiring an unbounded admiration for the mental 
resources and executive ability of Miss Olive Gaye ; 
and although he had, at first, chafed under the rage and 
humiliation of finding himself outwitted and mastered 
by a woman, he gradually ceased to suffer from these 
feelings, and by identifying himself with his future com- 
panion he soon came to think of her cleverness with 
[258] 


MASTER AND SLAVE. 


269 


great complacency as a part of bis own. Had not Olive 
said that “she would tell Toddlekins that they were 
one ?“ And Clarence felt that such a statement would 
be in every way correct. 

“By Jove’s thunder,” he thought, “she is worth all 
the rest of the women put together ! We shall make a 
team ! It will be worth while to run in harness with a 
girl like that, and it will be sure betting on the pair of 
us.” 

He had just reached this satisfactory conclusion when 
the carriage stopped in front of a tumble-down tene- 
ment-house, and without asking any questions Stanley 
directed the coachman to carry up his luggage to a 
room on the second floor, where he found, as he knew 
he should, Henri Van Tassel, in a state of stupefaction 
at his sudden appearance. 

“ Don’t profess to be surprised, old man,” said the 
new-comer, in his pleasantest manner. “ You must 
have known I was liable to turn up here any day, and 
don’t give me such a frigid welcome, or I might make 
the mistake of supposing that you were not glad to see 
me,” and, indeed, to judge by the face of the unhappy 
Van Tassel, no one would suppose such an idea a mis- 
taken one, 

The professor’s appearance was cadaverous from 
apprehension ; but in the depths of his soul there was 
comfort. It came from the memory of Dolores ; the 
rose, faded, withered now, which she had thrown to him 
in answer to the prayer for help from his despairing 
heart, was still redolent of promise and of comfort. 
From that night he had determined that if ever Stanley 
endeavored to influence him by mesmeric power to the 
commission of any evil deed, he would fly to Dolores for 
protection, and by the power for good — the atmosphere 
of purity and holiness that seemed to emanate from her 


260 


THE SPANISH TREASTJRE. 


— he felt that he should be saved. Though terrified 
by this sudden invasion, he felt strengthened by the 
memory of Dolores, and he replied, with a faint sem- 
blance of spirit, that his pleasure at this unexpected 
visit was by no means as great as his surprise. 

Stanley merely smiled ; and in view of the manner 
in which he had treated, earlier in the day, his newly- 
acquired library of occult science, he determined to use 
such knowledge as he possessed from what he would 
have described as the common-sense standpoint. By 
this, he meant that he would watch his opportunity to 
throw Van Tassel into the mesmeric trance ; a process 
which he believed consisted merely in the use of his 
own stronger will ; and when that was accomplished, 
he would compel him to obey his commands. 

But he did not find this so easy a task as it had 
hitherto been ; and he fumed within himself at this 
difficulty. He remembered with dismay the strong 
resisting force, perfectly inexplicable to him (and which 
forever remained inexplicable) that had protected 
Dolores from his influence. Was that mysterious force 
now opposing him again ? Could it be true that the 
guardian angels of pure souls did really protect them in 
moments of great peril ? And Henri Van Tassel was 
by nature a pure spirit, although weakness, both phys- 
ical and mental, too often left him at the mercy of 
strong, evil, unscrupulous persons such as his present 
companion, who now answered his own thought by a 
contemptuous smile and a scornful shrug of his fine, 
broad shoulders. 

“ Poor old Van !” thought Clarence, watching his 
reluctant host. “ He has no guardian angel ; and in a 
few minutes he will be my obedient slave as usual.” 

“ I am only going to trespass on your hospitality for 
a day or two, old man,” he said, aloud, with that air of 


MASTER AND SLAVE. 


261 


g-ood-fellowsliip which he had always found most ef- 
fectual in dealing with Van Tassel. “ I had actually 
started to leave town, but felt that I must see you once 
again, if only to provide for your future, before I say 
farewell forever to this eastern portion of the continent. 
The climate doesn’t agree with me. I pine for the free 
air of the prairies and the seclusion of remote, untrav- 
eled canyons. What these Eastern braggadocios have 
the cheek to call ‘ the wild and woolly West ’ suits me 
right down to the ground ; and to-morrow or next day 
I shall start for Chicago, and thence, as the fancy takes 
me, to the shores of our glorious Pacific.” 

Van Tassel instantly looked up at the self-invited 
guest with an expression of relief on his pallid counten- 
ance ; and Stanley continued, as he drew from his 
pocket a liberal roll of gold and bank-notes : 

And this is for you after I am gone. I know you 
think me an incorrigible scamp. Van, but it is no news 
now that the devil was never so black as he has been 
painted, and so with me. I think of you, old man, 
bad as I am. Now, take this boodle and lock it up 
carefully, for when I am gone, I guess you will have 
seen the back of your last friend.” 

Van Tassel answered by a grateful look, and, gather- 
ing up the money, he tied it securely in a chamois- 
leather bag and put it into an inner-pocket, saying : 

“ There is no safer place here. Of course, I may be 
robbed and murdered for it ; but if I am that will put 
an end to the whole story so far as I am concerned, and 
I am tired enough to welcome death in almost any 
form.** 

Stanley watched him, making no answer to his words, 
but with his gaze fixed upon him, till Van Tassel, under 
the influence of that strange, compelling, magnetic 
glance, suddenly sank into a chair, all collapsed, and 


262 


THE SPANISH TEEASURE. 


once more, like the ill-fated bird beneath the fascina- 
tion of the rattlesnake, sat helplessly looking into the 
eyes of his master. Stanley slightly smiled, and, with- 
out even the form of the waving passes of his hands, 
continued to look straight into the fascinated eyes of his 
victim till the latter’s head dropped on his breast, and 
he was fast asleep. 

‘‘Are you ready to obey me ?” asked Stanley. 

“Not ready, but I must obey you,” said the reluctant 
voice. 

“ The time has come to use the dagger. Is it ready 

A strong shudder shook the wretched man till he 
seemed in danger of falling from his chair ; but the 
effort at resistance was useless, and as soon as it had 
passed he answered in choking gasps : 

“ I have a dagger ! It will. serve ! It has been used 
before ! It is there !” 

He pointed to the miserable cot-bed on which he 
slept, and Stanley understood from the gesture that the 
dagger was concealed in the mattress. He was now so 
sure of his victim that he scarcely listened to his re- 
plies, knowing that Van Tassel must assent to every- 
thing he said ; and with only a glance to see that he 
was obeyed, he now ordered him to get the dagger and 
conceal it on his person. The sleeper rose and went 
toward the bed and, with the perfect accuracy of the 
somnambulist, instantly found the weapon and, putting 
it in his pocket, sat down on the edge of the cot. 

“ Now you will accompany me when I leave here, 
presently, and I will take you to the door of Celestine’s 
house. You are her brother, remember, and that will 
admit you to her presence at once. She is alone to- 
night ; the baron does not return till a late hour. 
Jealous though he is, he leaves her much alone ; but, 
perhaps, he has an object in that. The one thing that 


MASTER AND SLAVE. 


263 


concerns you, however, is that he will be absent to- 
night. If she refuses to see you, say that you are sent 
by Carlos. That will be enough. With what she now 
knows and what she suspects, she would go through fire 
to speak with you. You will be shown directly into 
her presence. Have the dagger ready. The instant 
you stand before her, plunge the dagger into her heart. 
You hear and understand ?" 

“Too well— too well !” groaned the sleeper, whose 
torpid conscience once more strove to arouse itself in 
order to fight against the will of the fiendish mind that 
controlled it. But the effort was vain. The unhappy 
wretch wrung his hands and groveled for mercy ; but 
Stanley continued inexorably : 

“ You will obey ?” 

“ I obey — I obey !” groaned the victim. 

Stanley paused a few moments, watching Van Tassel ; 
and when the latter seemed tranquil and without any 
further effort to struggle against his stronger influence, 
he made a few upward passes before his face and bade 
him awake. 

The professor opened his eyes and gazed at him, pale 
and terrified. 

“ Don’t look so scared, old man,” Stanley said gayly ; 
“ I was only trying if I had lost the power. I don’t 
believe in it, you know, but there’s a kind of fascination 
in trying it on occasionally. I read all the rubbish in 
that pile of books you brought me, and it has given me 
quite a good opinion of my own headpiece. If I weren’t 
pretty sound and strong, the occult science I have 
imbibed in the course of the past few weeks would 
have given me softening of the brain. However, Van, 
this is my last experiment on you. After I am gone, 
perhaps you will want to turn an honest penny now 
and then in getting up an entertainment by Professor 


264 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


Van Tassel. You can do it, I dare say. Leave liquor 
and opium alone, and all your power may, perhaps, 
come back.” 

Van Tassel listened in a dazed manner. The one 
idea that came to his befogged intelligence, out of all 
that Stanley said, was the latter’s promise that he 
would not mesmerize him again and the blissful infor- 
mation that he was about to leave the city forever. 
With his knowledge of the dangerous and awful possi- 
bilities of hypnotism, he knew that the effect of all that 
he had bade him do, and of all he might yet will to 
have him do, would gradually wear off when he was 
absent and removed entirely from the same sphere in 
which he moved ; and he clung to the hope that he 
might occasionally see Dolores and win from her the 
help of a superior order of mind. But, for the present, 
he knew himself to be utterly in the power of Clarence 
Stanley, and he made no further effort at resistance. 

Stanley rose and walked about the room, and open- 
ing a door at the farther side, found that it opened into 
another small apartment, meagerly furnished with a 
table, a couple of chairs and a dilapidated sofa. 

“ This is not a luxurious den of yours, Van,” he said ; 
“ but no matter. I have been used to roughing it in 
my day, and I can sleep anywhere. That old lounge 
will do for me, and, in the meantime, I invite you to 
dine with me. I have been so busy all day that I forgot 
about it, but now I feel quite hollow. Come along ; 
a good dinner will replenish the inner man and 
improve the looks of the outward man.” 

And catching up his hat and cane from the chair on 
which he had placed them he moved toward the door. 

Van Tassel looked about for his hat, and having 
found it put it on and mechanically followed Stanley 
out into the street. 


MASTER AND SLAVE. 


265 


Though a comparative stranger in New York, 
Stanley had made good use of his time, and he pos- 
sessed a special talent for learning a city by heart. He 
led the way directly to an obscure but good restaurant ; 
and, having fed his companion thoroughly and also 
dined well himself he seized him familiarly by the arm 
and walked up-town, apparently with no object except 
to while away the time. They had walked for more 
than an hour when a church- clock in the distance struck 
the hour of ten. Stanley took no heed of the time, and 
apparently Van Tassel had not observed the striking of 
the clock. He was listening to the conversation of his 
companion who had cast aside his rdle of Clarence 
Stanley, and for the furtherance of his purpose, was 
deep in certain reminiscences of their first acquaintance 
— the days when Van Tassel had been the prosperous 
and wonderful Professor Van Tassel, manager of the 
great clairvoyant and mind-reader, Mile. Celestine. 

“ And here,” said Stanley, suddenly pausing before 
an imposing mansion, the windows of which, on the 
second story, were brilliantly lighted, “ in this very 
house now lives like a princess, that same Celestine ; 
while you, her devoted brother, to whom she owes 
everything in the world, life itself, stand here an out- 
cast and little better than a tramp.” 

“ What — Celestine ?” gasped Van Tassel, turning 
deathly pale and pressing his hands to his brow, while 
he leaned for support against the railing of the steps 
that led up to the door. For some moments he seemed 
overcome as with faintness or dizziness, and Stanley 
trembled for the success of his great experiment. 

Would he obey literally or would the attempt be a 
failure ? 

Suddenly Van Tassel drew himself up and made an 


266 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


effort to walk on, but his feet seemed glued to the pave- 
ment ; he could not move from the spot. 

“ Celestine !” he muttered, in a voice of anguish. 
“ What is this horror that has come upon me ? Celes- 
tine ! My little sister — I loved her always — why should 
I harm her ? No, no, no ! I cannot raise my hand 
against Celestine !” 

You must !" whispered Stanley, in his ear, like the 
voice of Satan. “ She has treated you vilely, and 
deserves to die !” 

“‘To die!’” repeated Van Tassel, like an echo; 
and instinctively his hand sought the dagger in his 
breast-pocket, and a cruel, angry light gleamed in his 
wild eyes.” 

“ To die !” he said again. “ Yes, if I can reach her — 
I shall reach her — but I must be cunning, cunning ; or 
she won’t admit me ; but I have the pass- word. 
Carlos ! Carlos ! Ha — ha ! That will bring me to her 
if she had to wade through fire ! He said so, and he 
knows — he knows !” 

With a bound like a panther he suddenly sprang up 
the steps, and Stanley heard the echo of the furious 
ringing of the bell. 

“ It works — it works !” he thought. “ I couldn’t 
believe it if I hadn’t heard it and seen it for myself : 
but I must get out of this ; I dare not be seen about 
here.” 

He hastened rapidly along the street and did not 
pause for breath till he had turned the corner into the 
adjoining avenue. There he slowed his steps and 
walked loiteringly along for more than a block, and 
then turning about he walked slowly back again. 

“ It will take but afew minutes,” he thought, in fierce 
excitement, though outwardly careless. “ He cannot 
stop now that he has started. He is like a madman let 


master And slave. 




loose, and he will use the cunning of a madman. But I 
must give him time — there will be an instant alarm, 
perhaps a chase, and he may be captured on the instant, 
for, the deed once over, he will know nothing and be 
quite unable to explain or defend himself. It will be 
set down as the meaningless freak of a lunatic.” 

As Stanley’s thoughts reached this point, he had 
again arrived at the corner of the street and looked 
along toward the house into which he had seen Van 
Tassel vanish. He now saw him come trembling and 
tottering down the steps again, confronted by a figure 
that seemed hastening toward him. Stanley was sev- 
eral hundred yards away, but he was sure that figure 
was a woman’s and in the tall, slender shape a some- 
thing, strangely, subtly familiar, struck on all his senses 
and sent an electric thrill through and through him, 
till the very tips of his fingers throbbed in response to it. 

He could not move, but he stood there, watching, 
and he saw Van Tassel seize the girl’s hands. 

“ I may now touch you?” said Van Tassel, in a voice 
hoarse and tremulous with excitement, but yet vibrant 
with joy and triumph and unutterable thankfulness. 
“ My hands are clean. Look ! Look ! There is no 
blood on them. One ray of light came to me, and I 
prayed to God for help. Yes, I cried upon Him to send 
some angel to aid me, and He has sent you. Let me 
go with you. Let me follow you to the end of the 
earth. I will be your servant, your slave ; but do not 
send me away from you. Save me ! Save me !” 

Dolores answered gently : 

“ Come with me, then. You shall be my brother.” 

She would have drawn him forward, but Van Tassel 
whispered hurriedly : 

“ Not that way ! He is there. Oh, let me never see. 
him again ! Protect me always !” 


268 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


“This way, then,” answered Dolores; and they 
walked away together in the direction whence she had 
come. 

But at the sight of them disappearing together, Stan- 
ley recovered from the panic which had overtaken him. 
He darted forward, and as he plunged ahead like some 
wild animal after its prey, he found himself face to face 
with a man who had also rushed down the same steps by 
which Van Tassel had descended, and who was now. 
white and furious, glaring about him from side to side. 

“The husband !” thought Stanley. “That fool has 
done the deed, then, and there will presently be a hue- 
and-cry after the murderer. 1 cannot pursue him now. 
And why should I ? If he escapes so much the better.” 

He wheeled about and rushed in the other direction, 
while Baron von Helmholtz, glaring after him, took a 
few steps in pursuit, then turned and looked back at the 
vanishing figures of Van Tassel and Dolores. 

“ Which of these men ?” muttered the jealous and 
infuriated husband. “ Where have I seen that hand- 
some villain, with the beauty of Lucifer and more than 
his wickedness ? Ha — it must be he ! A lover ! A 
former husband ! She wouldn’t waste a look on the 
other ! Fool that I am, I have lost them both !” 

He returned to his house, and having locked the 
street-door he sat down heavily on the carved seat that 
stood against the wall. With a groan he glanced at a 
crumpled paper which he held in one hand, and then 
his gaze wandered to a slender, sharp-pointed dagger 
which he held in the other. A spasm as of pain con- 
tracted his heavy features, a lurid light burned in his 
eyes, and he set his thick lips tight and hard together ; 
then with the blade of a dagger he smoothed out the 
creases of the paper, and read once more words that 
were already seared into his brain : 


A MYSTERIOUS TRAGEDY — ALMOST. 


269 


“ Be on your guard. Your wife is deceiving you. Her 
former husband is not dead. He lives in this city, and 
they have met more than once and will meet again. Be 
warned. A friend sends this message.” 

‘ Her former husband !’ ” said Von Helmholtz, 
grinding the words between his teeth. “ He seeks my 
life, then ! Ah, we shall see ! And this dagger, no 
doubt, was for me.” 

He held it up and, turning it about curiously, looked 
at it carefully from the handle to the point ; and pres- 
ently on the gleaming steel he saw the letters of a name. 
He started up and held it close under the light of the 
brilliant hall -gas, and there he read these two words : 

“Carlos Mendoza.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

A MYSTERIOUS TRAGEDY — ALMOST. 

When Stanley returned to his self-appointed quarters 
at the wretched home of Van Tassel, he confidently ex- 
pected — notwithstanding the sudden and inexplicable 
appearance of Dolores in the late scene of the drama 
that had been taking place — that the professor would 
presently come back. But as hour after hour passed, and 
Van Tassel did not return, he flung himself down on 
the lounge, dressed as he was ; and, notwithstanding 
the noises of the street and the unsavory surroundings 
generally, he was soon in a profound slumber. 

The cow-boy experiences of his early life, and the 


270 


THE SPANISH TEEASUEE. 


atmosphere of danger in which he had lived for years 
until he became the Hon. Clarence Stanley, in short, 
had prepared him for all sorts of disturbing experiences; 
and, as he had often boasted to Van Tassel, it was not 
easy to “ phaze ” him. His training showed itself now, 
at the close of a day which might, certainly, have unset- 
tled the nerves of the coolest adventurer. But he prided 
himself on his “ nerve,” and the more essential it was 
to possess that often useful quality the more he felt him- 
self rise to the occasion ; and when he awoke it was late 
in the morning. A glance showed him that he was still 
undisputed possessor of the professor’s apartment. 

“ Where the devil has the old boy fled to ?” he thought. 
“ As we say in England, he has ‘ funked it must 
remember to be very English now ! But that pretty 
little fiend, Olive Gaye, will help me out with that sort 
of thing — Jove ! What a girl ! And by thunder ! I 
have forgotten that she expected me back again last 
evening to dinner — confound it ! But it was impossible 
anyway. I will get some breakfast and call on her at 
once. I mistrust she’ll make me walk a chalk line for 
awhile — but I’ll be patient till she’s my wife, and if she 
doesn’t And me a match for her then — for, as clever as 
she is, I am quite unacquainted with the future Earl of 
Windermere or the present Lord Clarence Stanley.” 

While these reflections, partly in silent thought and 
partly in broken snatches of remark, were passing 
through Stanley’s mind, he was performing a hasty 
morning toilet — a matter which the professor’s limited 
conveniences rendered difficult. 

Van’s appointments are certainly not luxurious,” he 
continued. Ailing a cracked basin with very stale water 
from a ewer minus a handle and the remains of a 
mouth-piece that was suggestive of a broken nose. “ For 
an English gentleman’s ‘ bawth ’ this is decidedly some- 


A MYSTERIOUS TRAGEDY — ALMOST. 


271 


thing of a makeshift. What does the professor do with 
the generous supplies of money I have given him in 
the past few weeks ? He can’t have spent it all on 
opium and scientific books ; perhaps he has been laying 
up a little nest-egg for a rainy day. And that reminds 
me he had a pocketful of gold and notes when we went 
out together last night ; if he has been caught by the 
police, his object in committing the murder would be 
set down to robbery. That is all right, and just as it 
should be. He would be dazed and helpless to that 
degree that he may pass for a crank or an irresponsible 
lunatic ! But, stay ; that was certainly Dolores Men- 
doza with whom he disappeared ? How in the name of 
Satan’s imps did she come there ? And where has she 
taken him ? Was there a row at the Hamilton house 
after I came away ? Like enough. Poor little Polly ! 
Of all the women I have known, she alone has loved 
me truly. Celestine was a jealous fury, and, though 
beautiful as a picture, shallow, tiresome and heartless. 
Olive Gaye is clever, ambitious, unscrupulous, interest- 
ing, but a sly little devil and deep as the bottomless pit. 
Dolores ! Oh, confound that girl ! She is maddening! 
Her face haunts me. Her voice, her touch, the very 
air she breathes is intoxicating ! I could have loved 
that woman ! Yes, devil and scoundrel as the good 
folk of this world would call me, I could have loved 
that woman. For her sake, I could have preferred 
heaven to— well, to the other place, whatever or wher- 
ever it may be. But, where the mischief has she taken 
Van Tassel ? He is mad about her and will tell her 
everything. My precious life may be in danger, and 
here I am dawdling away the minutes.” 

He hurriedly completed his preparations for the 
street, glanced at his luggage, not even unstrapped yet, 
and at once decided to get new quarters, whether Van 


272 


THE SPANISH TEEASURE. 


Tassel had returned or not, when he should have come 
back again after breakfast. 

A strange and very unusual feeling of depression 
took possession of Stanley when he found himself in 
the street, and he glanced about in a furtive manner, 
but without knowing he did so. If he had been an 
imaginative man, he might have supposed that some- 
thing was going to happen or that the web of his evil 
life was beginning to close around him. But as a mat- 
ter of fact, he did not think himself a “ very bad sort,” 
as he would have expressed it. He belonged to the 
large contingent that is fond of justifying itself on the 
rare occasions when conscience speaks, and, could he 
have been brought face to face with his own character 
in its worst aspects, he would have been first astonished 
and then indignant that he should be called to account 
for faults entailed on him by hereditary predisposition. 
At the present moment, his thought was that after all 
the wretched squalor of the neighborhood and of Van 
Tassel’s apartment had been too much for him. 

“ And no wonder !” he laughed. “ Blood will tell. 
And notwithstanding his wild-West experiences. Lord 
Clarence Stanley is a born aristocrat and begins to pine 
for the marble walls and princely magnificence of his 
ancestors, now that they really belong to him.” 

He quickened his steps, turning into a street that 
after a little winding, brought him at once into a better 
neighborhood, and then he directed his course to the 
restaurant where he had dined with Van Tassel ; but 
he gave much less time than usual to his breakfast. 
The morning paper, which he glanced over while wait- 
ing for coffee and rolls, did not give him the satisfaction 
that he had anticipated, and it was a distinct disap- 
pointment when he saw that an unknown man had rung 
the bell at the house of Baron Helmholtz, with the evi- 


A MYSTERIOUS TRAGEDY — ALMOST. 


273 


dent intention of committing some act of violence 
against some member of the family — doubtless the 
beautiful Baroness Helmholtz, whom he had asked for 
as “ Celestine.” 

“ The man is evidently a crank or, it may be an 
escaped lunatic,” the article continued, for when the 
terrified servant refused to carry his message, he drew 
^ dagger from his breast-pocket and, flourishing it 
wildly, declared that he must, and would, see the baro- 
ness ; because he had come from Carlos, Carlos, whom 
she adored ! He then turned away, and muttering 
what sounded like a prayer for help, exclaimed : ‘ God, 
God, pity me ! Send some angel to free me from the 
devil who pursues me !’ At this, the servant, who felt 
instinctively that she had a madman to deal with, fled 
upstairs, shrieking to her mistress to be on her guard 
and to lock her door before the lunatic could get to her. 
At the same moment, Baron von Helmholtz, who had 
just entered the house unknown to the servant, came 
hastily from the back drawing-room into the hall ; but 
was only in ti^'^e to see the would-be assassin rushing 
from the house. Baron Helmholtz pursued the man 
into the street, but, on arriving there, he saw a man and 
woman disappearing in one direction and another man 
standing irresolutely near the corner of the street, in the 
other direction. Uncertain what to do, he returned to 
the house and sent a telephone alarm to the nearest 
police-station. But no trace of the lunatic has been 
found, and no clue to what may have been his intentions 
in regard to the beautiful baroness, who remains, hap- 
pily, unharmed, and not even alarmed at what looks 
very like an attempt on her life.” 

Stanley was not prepared for the feeling of bitter dis- 
appointment that took possession of him as he read the 


274 


THE SPANISH TEEASURE. 


above paragraph, at first hastily, and then with slow 
and careful precision, weighing the value of each sen- 
tence as he read it. Until then, he had not known how 
much he had depended on the hypnotic suggestion 
which he had imposed on the unhappy professor ; but, 
notwithstanding the fact that he had ridiculed the idea 
from the first, and had been well disposed to curse every 
species of occult knowledge after his experience with 
Dolores, his own mysterious power over Van Tassel 
interested him more than he knew, and he had confi- 
dently expected to get rid of the beautiful Celestine for- 
ever through the agency of her half-crazy “ brother.” 

“ What a fraud the whole game is !” he thought, put- 
ting down the paper, and giving his immediate attention 
to the breakfast which the waiter now placed before 
him. “ And what an infernal fool I have been to waste 
time over a mere hanky-panky, superstitious folly. 
Those who believe in it are credulous fools or lunatics ; 
and the others are frauds and tricksters. It all comes of 
this cursed Mendoza fortune and that bewitched Dolores. 

I wash my hands of all occult mysteries from this time 
forward. There is more downright power to win the 
things of this world in Olive Gaye than in all the other 
women I know of ; and as it is the things of this world 
I pine for, I shall stick to Olive, now, and between us, 
we are pretty sure to get what we are after.” 

He hurriedly swallowed his coffee, hastened to Van 
Tassel’s rooms, to which their original owner had not 
yet returned, and an hour later he was settled in an 
obscure but comfortable hotel, and registered under an 
assumed name ; for he determined to remain but a few 
days longer in New York, and to leave no clew by which 
Mary Hamilton’s father could trace him. 

So rapidly had events chased each other in his life for 
the past forty hours, .that Clarence Stanley felt himself 


FATE THROWS THE DICE FOR OLIVE GATE. 275 

Vo be an older man when at last he set out to call on his 
brilliant fiancie^ but, happily, he did not look so, and he 
was glad to think that Olive would be satisfied with his 
appearance. 

“ I shall waste no time in making excuses for yester- 
day,” he said to himself, as he neared the house ; and, 
glancing up at it, saw a dark, laughing face looking 
toward him from the drawing-room window. “ By 
Jove ! There she is, and not a bit offended.” And 
when he reached the door it was instantly opened, 
before he had time to touch the bell. 

“ Come in !” said Olive, merrily. “ I ought to scold 
you, but I can imagine that you were very busy last 
evening and probably forgot all about me. I have just 
parted from our dear Celestine. Such an adventure 
last night ! She has told me all she knows and all she 
suspects, and she is almost frightened to death, the 
newspapers to the contrary notwithstanding. I gave 
her good advice, and I think she will take it. You are 
dying to know what the advice was. I will tell you.” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

FATE THROWS THE DICE FOR OLIVE GAVE. 

At these words of his fiancee^ a slight shiver passed 
over Stanley, and instinctively he braced his nerves for 
a possible encounter with Celestine. But instantane- 
ously he felt how unlikely it would be that this daring 
girl would subject him to an ordeal not merely trying 
to him but full of danger for the success of her own 


276 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


ambitious plans. He therefore answered her mocking 
smile with a glance that reflected an equal expression 
of scornful mockery, and he had the satisfaction of per- 
ceiving that she only admired him the more for his 
cool impertinence. 

“ You know I hadn’t much confidence in your plan, 
Clarence,” see said, indicating a seat close beside her on 
a tete-a-tHe sofa ; “ and, though you have told me but 
little about your power over this hynotized slave of 
yours, I think I am right in guovssing that you hoped to 
rid yourself of her by means of your power over him.” 

“Yes, I did ; and the attempt has been a failure,” he 
answered, moodily. “ My only hope now is in you, 
Olive. I will not disguise from you that I am in a bad 
plight. Two people live who are very dangerous to 
me : Celestine, who suspects a great deal and may yet 
learn the truth — ” 

“ Don’t be troubled about Celestine,” interrupted 
Olive, in a manner of encouraging confidence. “ As 
you don’t yet know, I sent a little note to the baron 
after we parted yesterday, and the contents, combined 
with the attempt of last night, have driven him quite 
mad with jealously. Of course, I called on the fair 
baroness, when I read this morning’s news, and, in the 
character of her most intimate friend, I was at once 
admitted to her presence ; and notwithstanding the 
vigilance of the jealous and furious husband, I con- 
trived to have a few minutes of private conversation with 
her. It appears that the baron suspects the crazy Van 
Tassel to have been either her first husband or an 
emissary from him who had intended to murder him, 
and not Celestine ; and so great has his rage and 
jealousy against his wife become that she is half insane 
with terror. She is a shallow creature, and if you were 
now to appear before her as Carlos Mendoza and claim 


FATE THROWS THE DICE FOR OLIVE GATE. 277 


her as your wife, she would flee from you instead of 
casting herself into your arms, madly as she has loved 
you and still loves you. I was amazed to see how 
abject mere physical fear could make anyone. Of 
course, my advice to her was to leave New York for- 
ever — even to leave this country, and to do it at once 
and with such a show of repugnance for the possible 
re-appearance of her first husband that the baron’s 
jealousy would be at once appeased.” 

“ But what reason has he to suppose that I am — that 
is, that Carlos Mendoza is not dead ? She has not been 
mad enough to tell him of her mistake in regard to my 
fancied resemblance to her first husband ?” 

“ No, my dear Clarence ; I don’t think that she has 
been silly enough to tell him about that ; but the 
anonymous letter received by the baron stated, on the 
positive authority of the writer’s knowledge, that you 
were — that is to say, that Carlos Mendoza was alive, and 
that the baroness was in the habit of giving him private 
interviews. This letter, which the baron showed her, 
while it alarmed the baroness almost as much as it had 
infuriated the baron, also gave her a momentary assur- 
ance that she had really recognized her first husband in 
the Honorable Clarence Stanley. But don’t be alarmed, 
my dear. She is wholly under the influence of terror, 
and she will leave this country forever within a few 
days.” 

Her listener, who had been rather paler than usual, 
slowly recovered his customary healthy coloring, and 
drew a sigh of relief when the girl ceased speaking. 

“ You are an amazing girl, Olive Gaye,”said Stanley, 
“ and I place myself in your hands without reserve. I 
am ready — or shall be presently — to follow you blindly. 
But another and more serious danger threatens us now, 


278 


The SPANISH THEASUEEJ. 


and I am willing and anxious to take your advice iu 
regard to it." 

And in the briefest words he related the unexpected 
appearance of Dolores and the fact that Van Tassel had 
disappeared in her company. 

Olive looked grave for some moments, and was at a 
loss for any suggestion or advice to offer on this matter. 

She is a singular girl,” at last she said, “and if the 
man is so completely infatuated with her as you say, an 
alliance of any sort between them might be dangerous 
to our plans. I dislike her, and have no confidence in 
her airs of superiority and virtue ; but she will inevit- 
ably find out from Van Tassel the whole story of your 
pretended identity with Lord Clarence Stanley, and our 
only safety in regard to him lies in the fact that we are 
on guard against him and we can more easily prove 
him to be a dangerous lunatic than he can prove you to 
be other than the man whose name you bear. I do not 
think we need to be alarmed on this subject. But I 
must find out whether that Mendoza girl has left the 
Hamilton family. I cannot go there personally, for 
Polly dislikes and mistrusts me, and I don’t like her. 
To confess the truth. Lord Clarence, I am inclined to 
be jealous of her. In your inmost heart, my dear Clar- 
ence, or what passes for that organ, I believe that you 
are more than half in love with Polly Hamilton, and 
you are sorry now that you have lost the chance of 
marrying her.” 

“ What, when I have the choice of you instead ?” 
exclaimed Stanley. “ My dearest girl ! How can you 
do yourself such injustice ?” 

Olive Gaye felt her cheek redden angrily. There 
was an insolent freedom in the man’s tone which she 
resented with suppressed but bitter fury. Although 
every day now was making her more indifferent to the 


FATE THROWS THE DICE FOR OLIVE GATE. 279 

voice of conscience — a voice which had, indeed, always 
spoken to her in muffled tones — she had still the species 
of feminine vanity that craves, at least, an outward 
semblance of respect ; and she had always been accus- 
tomed to the superficial homage of all men whom she 
met in society. 

“ The man is not a gentleman,” she thought, “ not 
even in outward seeming. How could the Hamiltons 
have been deceived in him all these years ? But how 
handsome ! I suppose Polly was quite mad about him, 
and, of course, that would blind her father and mother. 
But I must get some hold on him even stronger than 
my knowledge of his early life ; for when I have 
married him, it will be as much to my interest as to his 
own to preserve his secret ; and, devil that he is, he 
knows that as well as I do.” 

While these thoughts were passing through the 
shrewed mind of Miss Gaye, she was looking up into 
her lover’s face with the ingenuous and childlike smile 
which deceived most men and was not wholly without 
effect even in the keen eyes now observing her ; while 
the glowing crimson of her cheek might well enough 
pass for the blush of pleasure in listening to a compli- 
ment from the lips of the man whom she loved. 

‘‘ Do you really think so, dear Clarence ?” she 
answered. “ Pm afraid that I am falling in love with 
you, wicked fellow as you are ! But, what was I say- 
ing .? Ah — yes: I will get Bertha Sef ton to call on Polly 
Hamilton. Bertha will do anything for me, and in that 
way I will find out if Dolores Mendoza has left Polly, 
or, worse still, if she has brought Van Tassel back there 
with her. My uncle knows of our engagement, Clar- 
ence, and of your sudden accession to the title, and he is 
prepared to meet you as my jiancie. I have made every- 
thing easy for you, even to fixing the day for our mar- 


280 


THE SPANISH TKEASTJEE. 


riage ; I have also written to Toddlekins, with a view 
to future emergencies — just such a letter as will bind 
her forever, and more closely than before, to me and my 
interests in every form. Ah, there is Uncle Gaye ! Let 
me introduce you to him.” 

Lord Clarence found himself received in every way 
as such a distinguished personage ought to be received 
by the head of a family into which he was about to 
enter as an honored and welcome member. Mr. Gaye 
had, in truth, been momentarily surprised by his niece’s 
announcement of her engagement, but when she 
reminded him of their intimacy with the family of her 
betrothed, it soon came to seem a very natural outcome 
of that acquaintance, and in a few days, the engagement 
was accepted by the household in the matter-of-course 
manner in which Olive Gaye’s actions were generally 
received by the persons most nearly affected by them. 

Despite his admiration for Olive Gaye’s particular 
kind of cleverness and her quite extraordinary executive 
ability, Stanley could never rid himself of the feeling 
that he had been captured and was held, like any other 
captive animal, with a chain long enough for apparent 
freedom, it is true, and loose enough to make him almost 
unconscious of its presence, but when he sought to 
evade it he was made to feel, in an unmistakable man- 
ner, that it was there. 

“ But I shall marry her,” he thought. “ That or the 
wild West and freedom is now my only alternative ; 
and I am afraid I am spoiled for the prairies and can- 
yons. Too much civilization and luxury have made the 
necessity for their continuance imperative. In order 
to possess them I must marry her ; and when I do — ” 

Stanley did not complete the sentence ; and could 
Miss Gaye have seen his face at that moment, the 
expression of it might have robbed the coronet of the 


PATE THROWS THE DICE FOR OLIVE GATE. 281 

prospective countess of much of its luster. Perhaps not, 
however, for Lord Clarence did not yet do full justice 
to the reserved forces of the remarkable young woman 
whom he was now engaged to marry ; and when he 
was informed that she had concluded to have their 
union take place at an unexpectedly early date, he 
could but express satisfaction ; for he was, indeed, 
nnfeignedly glad at the prospect of a speedy departure 
from New York. 

Outside her own family, no one knew or remotely 
suspected the engagement of Olive to Clarence Stanle}’, 
w'ith the single exception of Bertha Sefton ; and Miss 
Gaye had only taken her friend into her confidence 
when she realized the danger of not confiding in her. 
Bertha had already ascertained all that had been 
required in regard to Dolores having absented herself 
suddenly* and, as it seemed, mysteriously, from the 
Hamilton family ; and in that way Olive and Stanley 
knew that she had never returned there after her meet- 
ing with Van Tassel. 

“ They have gone to California together," said Stan- 
ley. “ I feel they have done so in quest of the Santi- 
ago Canyon, of which he knows the locality ; and by 
this time they have arrived there and are doubtless 
searching for the treasure." 

“ Have patience, Clarence ; they will not find it," 
said Olive. “You alone possess the secret, and as that 
girl’s father lost his life in the search for it, you may be 
quite certain she is in no haste to risk hers— no — no ! 
I learn through Bertha that she has left the Hamilton’s 
for entirely different reasons— in which Polly believes, 
but in which Mrs. Hamilton does not put the least 
faith. The dear mother, on the contrary, has lost all 
confidence in the wonderful Spanish sefiorita, in the 
belief that her sudden and mysterious disappearance is 


282 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


explained by the equally sudden and mysterious disap- 
pearance of Lord Clarence Stanley — in short, Mrs. 
Hamilton is firmly convinced that Polly’s late sweet- 
heart and recently acquired sister have eloped to- 
gether.” 

“ Then they do not suspect that I am still in New 
York ?” said Stanley, eagerly. 

He was, in truth, not without alarm at the prospect 
of being some day brought face to face with Polly 
Hamilton’s father — and he knew the latter well enough 
to have a wholesome fear of such an encounter. Mr. 
Hamilton was an old Californian, and had many of the 
peculiarities of a class of men now too rapidly disap- 
pearing. His ideas in regard to women in general 
were of the old-fashioned, chivalrous kind ; and in 
regard to his much loved daughter, in particular, he 
was quite capable of shooting “ on sight ” the man who 
should in any way slight, or wrong, or cause a heart- 
ache to his little Polly. 

Nothing short of meeting you face to face would 
convince Mrs. Hamilton of that fact,” said Olive, in 
answer to Stanley’s last words. “ Mary does not believe 
that Dolores has gone off with you ; and in order to keep 
her from learning the true state of affairs I have been 
obliged to take Bertha Sefton into my confidence. But 
Bertha is a fool and couldn’t be made to keep any secret 
very long — therefore the sooner we start on our wed- 
ding-journey the better, and I have arranged to have 
the ceremony take place to-morrow evening. Bertha 
will be our only witness, and the minister of the church 
to which she belongs will perform the ceremony at his 
own house. She has arranged the matter for me, and 
my people have all agreed to be secret about the mar- 
riage for the present on account of your recent bereave- 
ment — poor boy !” 


FATE THROWS THE DICE FOR OLIVE GAVE. 283 


“ You are a trump, Olive !” exclaimed Stanley. I 
begin to think I shall end by falling in love with you, 
my dear. You really are worth a dozen of the ordinary 
sort of women !” 

“ Oh, thanks !” exclaimed Miss Gaye, with a slight 
flush, half-pleased, half-angry. “ But that isn’t much of 
a compliment. Now, I want you to explain to me once 
more the secret of the cryptograph, and also to go over, 
in detail, every point of the Mendoza story, in so far as 
it has any bearing whatever on this concealed treasure. 
We are going to find that treasure, my Clarence, we are 
going to take possession of it, and we are going to enjoy 
it together ; and, in order that there may be no mistake 
of any kind or in the least particular, I intend to have 
every point of the story and every possible or impossible 
circumstance connected with it at my finger’s ends ; 
then we need fear no one, neither Celestine, Van Tassel 
nor Dolores, nor yet the old earl. Lord Harold and his 
sister, or even dear old Toddlekins !” 

Stanley gave a hurried glance about the room and 
then toward the door, which was closed, but not 
locked. 

Olive rose and, with a low, gurgling laugh, like that 
of a playful child, locked the door. 

“ Just to satisfy your suspicious mind, dear,” she said, 
coming back to her chair that was drawn up close « 
beside him. “ It is quite unnecessary, for we are alone 
in the house ; even the servants are out, and my uncle 
and his family. will not return before midnight. I 
arranged this tite-d,-tete on purpose, that we might suffer 
no interruption.” 

Stanley’s smile was eloquent of appreciation ; but his 
admiration also betrayed itself in words. 

“ You forget nothing, Olive/’ he said. “ You are pos- 


284 


THE SPANISH TREASCJKE. 


itively wonderful. If I had only known you sooner, I 
should have found the Mendoza treasure before now.” 

He drew from his pocketbook — the same old one, 
marked with the arms of the Windermere family, that 
he had carried for so many years — all the papers relat- 
ing to the cr3^ptograph, both the original parchment 
and the various translations and cuttings of the separ- 
ate pieces of the picture forming the figure of the 
Indian princess. 

These he spread out on the table, and for hours this 
man and the girl who had determined to be his wife 
pored over the mysterious script, studying it word for 
word, letter by letter, and finding many new and hidden 
meanings in it, until both felt that it was engraved on 
heart and brain forever. 

During the days which had elapsed since Stanley and 
Olive had become engaged they had grown very confi- 
dential with each other in regard to their past lives. 
The most devoted, passionate and reciprocal love could 
hardly have given more complete confidence between 
lovers ; but each knew that it was more truly in the 
nature of that ‘‘ honor among thieves ” which becomes 
a necessity in such cases for purposes of future safety. 

And it must be admitted that, notwithstanding her 
ambition, her heartlessness and her lack of true refine- 
ment, there were moments when Olive Gaye revolted 
against the position in which she had placed herself, 
and for brief intervals she would occasionally be over- 
whelmed with a feeling of loathing and contempt for 
herself even greater than she ever felt toward the man 
with whom she was associated. But all such twinges of 
conscience were brief and were quickly stifled. 

It was late when they ceavSed to pore over the secret 
of the cryptograph, but both felt that they thoroughly 


FATE THROWS THE DICE FOR OLIVE GAVE. 285 


understood it, and each longed for the hour when he or 
she could set out in search of the hidden treasure. 

“ To-morrow evening, dearest,” said Stanley with a 
smile, as he replaced the various papers in his pocket- 
book and then returned the pocket-book to his breast- 
pocket. “ I mean it now, Olive, when I say that. You 
are really ‘ dearest ’ to me now.” 

“ What !” exclaimed Olive, with a mocking laugh. 
“ Are you really falling in love with me, Clarence ?” 

“ Really, yes,” answered Stanley. “Like to like, you 
know. I never met the right kind of woman till now ; 
but in you I see myself reflected, and, in a way, 
improved upon.” 

Olive Gaye again felt that twinge of dislike, almost of 
loathing, that she had often felt before, and for a 
moment the desire to say something cuttingly bitter was 
so great that she could hardly repress it ; but she did 
repress the words, promising herself that the time would 
yet come when she could avenge many slights and 
impertinences which she now compelled herself to 
accept with smiling indifference. 

She accompanied her lover to the door, and as she 
raised her face to his for the good-night kiss, which he 
pressed with all a lover’s fervor on her small red mouth, 
a great, old-fashioned clock in the upper hall struck the 
hour in deep, sonorous peals of sound. 

“ Eleven o’clock, Clarence. I had no thought it was 
so late. Uncle Gaye and the girls will soon be here. 
Good-night, good-night, dear boy ; but come very early 
in the morning. There is much to be arranged yet, 
and then we will appoint where and when to meet 
Bertha in the evening.” 

She hastily closed the door as her lover turned to 
wave his hand in adieu ; and then she drew a sigh of 
mingled relief, pain and anger. 


286 


THE SPANISH TREASHEE. 


“ I love that man !” she muttered to herself ; “ but 
that won’t last, because I hate him, too. Heigh-ho ! I 
wonder, as the French say, if the game is worth the 
candle. But it is too late now for moralizing, and fate 
will help me through, as usual.” 

“You are early, dear,” said Miss Gaye to Lord Clar- 
ence, when, on the following morning, she ran down 
stairs to meet him. “ Come here ! Let me look at you. 
As I live, I don’t believe you have read the news this 
morning, Clarence.” 

“ Well, 1 have not,” said Stanley, carelessly. “ There 
is nothing that can happen of any particular interest to 
me any more. Or is there ? What has happened > 
Anything that concerns me, is it ?” 

“ Read and judge for yourself,” said Olive ; and, tak- 
ing a slip of paper from her corsage — a slip she had 
carefully cut from the morning news — she placed it in 
Stanley’s hand. 

And this was the startling announcement that met 
his eyes : 


SECOND- ACT IN THE DRAMA. 

“ The attempt at a tragedy begun two days ago in 
the house of Baron von Helmholtz was, last night, suc- 
cessfully carried out. The beautiful young baroness 
was found, at about eleven o’clock, dead, lying on a 
lounge in her room. The baron, who had just entered, 
was the one to make the discovery ; and notwithstand- 
ing the madness of his grief, he has so far controlled it 
as to give valuable suggestions to the police in regard to 
this most terrible tragedy. The young countess, it 
appears, had been married before, to a Spanish adven- 
turer who had treated her vilely, and who was supposed 
to have been killed, years ago, in a quarrel at a gaming- 
table j but only a fortnight since, or thereabouts, the 


i'ATE THROWS THEi DICE EOR OLIVE GAVE. ^87 

baron received anonymous intelligence of the re-appear- 
ance of the first husband, whose name was Carlos Men- 
doza. The baroness was murdered by means of a long, 
slender dagger, driven through the heart, and which 
had been left in the fatal wound by the murderer — who 
had probably fled in trepidation at some approaching 
sound — and this dagger, taken possession of immedi- 
ately by the police, bears on its blade the name of 
‘ Carlos Mendoza,’ the letters deeply engraved in the 
steel — ” 

“ This is Van’s work !” exclaimed Stanley, in a low 
tone, as he turned to Olive Gaye, who stood beside him, 
her gaze fastened on the words while he read them, 
“ without doubt this is Van’s work, but what infernal 
stupidity about the dagger — the one I gave him bore 
his own name — I did not even know he had the other 
one ! This might be infernally awkward if I should 
ever — that is to say, if Carlos Mendoza does live, it might 
be deuced unpleasant for him ; but he may be lucky 
enough to be able to prove an alibi — ” 

Olive laughed merrily. 

“The unlucky Carlos may be fortunate enough to 
prove an alibi ; though, if he were in your place, Clar- 
ence, he couldn’t.’* 

“Why not.^” said Stanley, sharply, and glancing at 
the printed slip, “ according to the newspaper report, 
this woman must have met her death some time between 
ten o’clock, when her maid left her, perfectly well, and 
eleven o’clock, when her husband, entering her room, 
found her dead. Now, I was with you, here in this room 
the entire evening, and when I parted from you it struck 
eleven o’clock, and you remarked upon the hour.” 

“ Oh, yes, dear Clarence, but I am the only living 
person who can help you to prove an alibi — and to night 


^88 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


I shall be your wife. In such a case a wife’s evidence 
would not be received either for or against a suspected 
criminal. So you see, dearest, you would be quite help- 
less, if you were Carlos Mendoza, and if you should^ by 
chance, be arrested on circumstantial evidence — because 
if I am not your wife then I shall hate you, and in that 
case I would remain silent, while if I am your wife my 
evidence would have no value. Poor Carlos ! How glad 
you should be that you are Clarence now and not Carlos.” 

Stanley felt a cold chill run over him from head to 
foot as he met the mocking, smiling eyes of his future 
wife, — and from that moment he felt that he was a 
doomed man, for, whether he married her now, or fled 
from her, either way he was at the mere)’ of this heart- 
less, unscrupulous, cruel girl ; for she held his life and 
future safety in the hollow of her hand. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

DOLORES IS VINDICATED. 

As day followed day, and her lover neither returned, 
nor made any effort, by letter or otherwise, to obtain 
the forgiveness she would so gladly have bestowed on 
him, the conviction forced itself upon Polly Hamilton 
that Clarence Stanley was gone forever. In bitterness 
of soul she had told herself again and again, from the 
first moment of their separation, that this was so ; but 
to realize the unuttered thought as an irrevocable fact 
— this was a different and far more terrible matter ! 

Bat it was a fact, too surely, now, too cruelly she felt 
this— a horrible, infamous, unbearable fact, which. 


DOLORES IS VINDICATED. 


289 


nevertheless must be borne ; and the effort she made to 
meet it bravely and with dignity was pitiful and heart- 
breaking in the eyes of the parents who adored her, and 
to whom her beloved face was as an open book on 
which they read every hidden tear and every smothered 
sigh. Neither did any word or token come from Dolo- 
res. There was no reason for expecting anything of 
the kind, as Polly constantly reminded her mother ; 
“ for Rita had wished her place of residence for the 
present to remain wholly unknown. Such had been 
her intention in leaving them, for she judged rightly in 
suspecting that she would be at once sought out and 
implored to return.” But although Mary Hamilton 
spoke in this manner both to her father and mother, 
and in the silence of her own thoughts tried to cheat 
herself with the same excuse, she knew all the time 
that in the depths of her soul she had hoped that Dolo- 
res would find some way of sending her a sign that she 
continued to think of her and love her as before ; and, 
unconsciously to herself, the reiterated suspicions of 
Mrs. Hamilton were beginning to tell upon her. She, 
who had always been bright and cheerful as the morn- 
ing, radiant as June sunshine and happy and sweet of 
temper as all young, healthy, untrammeled life should 
be, was now the embodiment of irritability, melancholy, 
fitful, bitter, derisive merriment, or else irrepressible, 
unconquerable grief. 

“ Don’t speak to me of Rita’s treachery,” she said 
one day, to her mother, turning upon her almost furi- 
ously. “ She is incapable of treachery. Besides wh\ ch, 
it is unnecessary. I gave him to her. Yes, madly a\ I 
have loved Clarence Stanley, I would not owe him o 
any woman’s pity,’ not even to Rita. I told her that\ f 
she really loved him, I gave them to each other freely. 


290 


THE SPANISH TEEASTJEE. 


and I would have died rather than come between 
them.’' 

“ Then she has taken you at your word, and probably 
justifies herself in that way for her deceitful behavior. 
How much nobler of her to have spoken the truth to 
your face and so showed herself worthy of your self- 
sacrificing love and friendship,” said Mrs. Hamilton. 
“ But it was madness of you, Polly, dear, to give up 
your lover in that way to any other girl — you have 
destroyed your brilliant prospects ! Foolish child ! 
Did you not know that your father could have com- 
pelled Lord Clarence to do you justice by keeping his 
engagement to you.” 

“ Oh, dear — dear mamma ! Say, no more, I beg of 
you!” cried Polly, half-frantic with wounded pride and 
repressed feeling. What kind of a girl should I be to 
accept a husband who was compelled to marry me 1 Do 
you think I have no pride ? And don’t call him ‘ Lord 
Clarence ’ — 1 hate the thought that it has made you 
forget that I value my own dignity and self-respect 
more than a thousand titles. If you had not set your 
mind on seeing me the Countess of Windermere you 
never could have had the thought of compelling any man 
to do me justice in a matter where the man’s own love 
should be the only compulsion ever known.” 

Mrs. Hamilton colored deeply with momentary anger 
and bitter mortification, for the unintentional rebuke 
stung her deeply, because she felt the full force of her 
daughter’s words. 

“You are right, Polly,” she said, “and I hope you 
will forgive me. You are more to me than all the 
countesses or fine ladies that ever were heard of ; it 
was only because such a title seemed so fitting to my 
own dear, lovely girl, that my mind has dwelt on it. 
But I will never speak of it again. More than that, I 


DOLORES IS VINDICATED. 


291 


will never speak of him again or of Dolores either (at 
least, until we hear the right kind of news from her), 
if you will but promise me to tear this false and 
wretched man forever from your thoughts.” 

” I promise you, darling mother. More than that, I 
tell you truly now when I say that I have already torn 
him from my heart. It was not Clarence Stanley that 
I loved, but the thought, the ideal of him that I had set 
up in my own soul. Ah, that is the hard thing to over- 
come ! But I will do it, mamma. Only be patient 
with me and try to understand me. When you see me 
sad or weeping, do not think that I am grieving for the 
loss of Lord Clarence Stanley. No, no ! The man I 
loved never lived ; and I am but grieving, weeping, 
despairing over the grave of my dead love. A dead 
love ! A buried lover who never even lived ! Oh, 
mamma, it may seem a foolish grief, but it is very real 
and terrible to me !” 

Mrs. Hamilton looked at the pale and now tearless 
face of her suffering child, and began to realize that she 
had never before understood the almo.st tragic possibil- 
ities of her once gay, light-hearted, happy daughter. 
She folded her in her arms and held her close to her 
heart, and then she whispered a thought which came to 
her suddenly : 

“ Love, real love, can never die, Polly, dear. It is a 
great misfortune to have wasted such a love as yours, 
even for a short time, on the wrong man ; but the world 
is wide, and you are but a child yet. Bury the false 
lover, if you will, darling — the sooner the better ; but 
you will yet meet the true lover, and then you will 
know the dead love in your heart is only sleeping, 
waiting for the right man to awaken it to new and 
stronger life than it has yet known.” 

Polly started and thrilled strangely. There was 


292 


THE SPANISH TEEASUEE. 


surely some great force in that thought. She could not 
yet understand it, and it seemed to give her only pain ; 
and yet, what had her mother said ? The world was 
wide, and she was yet but a very young girl ! 

“Oh, mamma!” she murmured. “Do not speak to 
me of other men. I think I hate the whole race of men 
just now — all except papa — and the whole world is 
dreary, dreary — especially this part of it — and 1 wish, I 
wish I could leave New York — now, to-day — this — 
hour — forever !” 

“ And so you shall, dearest !” exclaimed Mrs. Hamil- 
ton, glad enough for the suggestion, and reminded by 
it of the advice which Doctor Macdonald had given her 
to take Mary away and give her the benefit of new 
scenes and new associations at once. “ Your father has 
spoken of going to California this very week ; business 
calls him there imperatively. Why should we not 
return there with him ?” 

“ Why, indeed ?” exclaimed Mary, her face flushed 
and bright with the thought. “ I should be so glad to 
go ; and it will bring me nearer to Dolores, to my own 
dear Rita ! Yes, I know I shall find her there !” 

Mrs. Hamilton repressed the words of impatience that 
rose to her lips. Her suspicions in regard to Dolores 
and Stanley remained unchanged. But, determined to 
keep her promise to Polly so recently given, she turned 
away, and, going to the door, answered in person the 
servant who had just knocked. 

“ It is Bertha Sefton,” she said, looking toward Polly. 
“ Norah says that although she gave your message that 
you could not see any one to-day. Miss Sefton insists on 
seeing you, and declares she will not go away without 
speaking to you. Very rude of her ! Shall I go down 
and see her, dear ?” 

“ No, mamma, dear ; let her come up. Since I am 


DOLORES IS VINDICATED. 


293 


going away, I ought to see her to say good-bye. She 
has been constant in calling every day, though I have 
refused to see her now for almost a week. Norah, show 
Miss Sefton up here ; say I will see her in my room.” 

But Bertha Sefton did not wait for the servant to 
repeat these words. She had followed Norah upstairs, 
greatly to the girl’s surprise, and, having already heard 
all that Mary Hamilton had said, now hurriedly entered 
the room, and in great agitation threw herself at the 
feet of her friend, exclaiming : 

“ Polly, Polly ! Forgive me, promise to forgive me, 
or I will never rise from here !” 

“Forgive you?” asked Polly, in wondering amaze- 
ment, “ what am 1 to forgive, Bertha ? Rise, there’s a 
good girl. I’m sure there is nothing that you can have 
done but what I can forgive very easily ; now, rise ! 
What is it I am to forgive ?” 

“Ah, but that is just the trouble?” continued Bertha, 
wildly, “you don’t yet know what I have done, and you 
can never guess, and that is what makes it so hard ; 
but you must first promise to forgive me, or else 1 can 
never get courage to tell you the whole dreadful truth. 
Promise, promise !” 

She seized Polly’s hands and, in her excitement, held 
them so tight that her grasp left the impress of her 
gloved fingers on the fingers of Polly. 

“ Well, well,” said the latter, soothingly, “ I forgive 
you whatever it is, Bertha ; now calm yourself, and 
rise. I don’t like having people on their knees at my 
feet.” 

“ Oh, dearest Polly, how shall 1 tell you ? How 
could I ever be such a treacherous wretch ?” 

She had started to her feet at Polly’s last words, and 
now stood helplessly twisting her hands together, tear- 
ing her gloves and presenting an almost distraught 


294 


THE SPANISH THE A SURE. 


appearance, very unlike the usual placid and calm 
Bertha Sefton. At length, with an effort, she over- 
came her agitation. 

‘‘ Polly," she said, “ I don’t wish to make my own 
fault the least little bit less than it really is ; but this 
has been all the doing of Olive Gaye — my part 
in it as well as hers. She has acquired such a power 
over me, it has been like witchcraft. She has 
made me do just as she wished. But she is gone now, 
and, I hope, gone out of my life forever, and I have 
recovered my senses. In the beginning it was by play- 
ing on my feelings that she first gained an influence 
over me. I didn’t know that I was jealous, and 1 wasn’t 
really ; but she made me feel bitter against you, because 
you had seemed to slight my friendship in your love for 
Dolores Mendoza ; and then when Dolores left you so 
suddenly, she declared it was a righteous punishment 
upon you for betraying my friendship, because I had 
better and prior claims. Oh, I can’t tell you how deep 
and how cunning she is ! She makes thoughts grow in 
one’s mind that never had a place there before. Then, 
about Mr. Stanley — it was so dreadful, and you break- 
ing your heart about him all the time, and I pretending 
not to know ! How could I be so wicked !’’ 

Polly’s hand instinctively went to her heart ; she felt 
suffocated. What was she about to hear? Had her 
mother been right after all ? She felt dizzy and trem- 
bled as if about to fall. Mrs. Hamilton quickly passed 
her arm about the trembling form of her daughter and 
turned sternly toward their visitor. 

“ That man’s name is not to be mentioned again in 
this house !’’ she said. My daughter sent him from 
her. If you come here, Miss Sefton, to say that you 
have assisted in his elopement with Dolores, perhaps 


DOLORES IS vindicated. 


295 


my poor child can forgive you. I say ‘ perhaps,’ but I 
am sure that I never can forgive you while I live !” 

“ Oh, not with Dolores! I know nothing of her!'' 
exclaimed Bertha, bursting into tears. “ Lord Clarence 
Stanley has married Olive Gaye ; and I did what I 
could to assist them : I engaged the clergyman, and 
stood by and saw them married, and signed my name 
as witness. It was all as horrid as anything could be, 
and not a bit like a real marriage with a real lord, 
except, of course, that Mr. Martin is a real clergyman ; 
but I never supposed Olive Gaye would be satisfied 
with such a wedding as that. They were married last 
night, and they said good-bye to me at the door of the 
house when we left Mr. Martin’s, jumped into a car- 
riage that was waiting, and were driven away and out 
of sight before 1 could realize that they were gone. I 
stood and looked after them, and pinched myself black 
and blue to prove it wasn’t a dream. And it was real — 
real I And, oh, Polly, do try to forgive me, for I never 
can forgive myself !” 

Polly Hamilton drew a long breath of profound and 
joyous relief, and, to Bertha’s amazement, she caught 
her in her arms and kissed her. 

“ Olive Gaye 1” repeated Mrs. Hamilton, stupidly. 
“ Olive Gaye ! Lord Clarence Stanley has married 
Olive Gaye, and she will be Countess of Windermere !” 

“And much good may it do her !” exclaimed Polly 
Hamilton. “ She is entirely welcome to that honor. 
And now, mamma, dear, you will admit that Rita is 
entirely vindicated. My own darling Rita ! How glad 
I am that I have believed in her, in spite of everything I 
Bertha, you have brought me joyful news ; so that, if 
you had been even less a friend than you accuse your- 
self of being, I think I could still forgive you every- 
thing.” 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

IN THE SANTIAGO CANYON. 

Upon a rustic seat, beneath the spreading branches 
of a live-oak tree, sat two ladies in silent but pleased 
contemplation of two little girls who were at that 
moment amusing themselves with the fallen “ cups and 
saucers ” of the oak, by which name they described the 
acorns and their outer rings, with which the green sward 
was thickly covered. The younger and by far the more 
beautiful of these two ladies was dressed in white, but 
the black sash that defined her slender waist and the 
knots of narrow black ribbon at the throat and on the 
sleeves served to indicate that the wearer was in mourn- 
ing, while the pensive and somewhat worn young face 
of the lovely mourner showed plainly enough that her 
grief had been a heavy one. The second lady was evi- 
dently many years older than her companion, although 
a merry heart and a happy life had made the years pass 
so lightly as hardly to leave the traces of their flight. 
She was the mother of the little girls, and her compan- 
ion was their governess ; but the position of the latter 
was merely nominal. Her employer was a dear and 
intimate friend, who had, in early girlhood, been the 
friend of her young governess’s mother, and who now 
[296] 


IN THE SANTIAGO CANYON. 


297 


felt far more like a mother toward her early friend’s 
daughter than a mere employer for paid services. 

“ Dolores,” said Mrs. Travers, suddenly breaking the 
silence, “ do you know, dear, that it distresses me to 
observe that the sadness I thought at first wholly due 
to your bereavement and loneliness does not grow less 
with time ?” 

“It will, dear Mrs. Travers,” returned Dolores, with 
an effort assuming a brighter expression and calling 
more animation into her voice and manner ; “ but, 
indeed, I shall never get accustomed to my loss in 
mamma’s death and I can never cease to mourn her 
absence. It means so much to me ! Oh, it is a whole 
world of grief and sorrow !” 

“ Of course it is, dear, and who could wish to have 
you love her less ? For that is the true test. We mourn 
the absence of those we love just in proportion to the 
amount of our love for them, unless we are fortunate 
enough to feel that they are not very far away. But 
cannot you feel the presence, the true spiritual presence 
of your mother, Dolores, although she is no longer visi- 
ble or tangible ?” 

Dolores turned to her companion with a bright an- 
swering look of faith and sympathy. 

“ I always feel so,” she said ; “ I always have felt so. 
I could not bear my life but for that conviction — that 
mamma has not really left me ; that she is often near 
me in spirit and thought. But there are times when 
that is not a comfort ; it is a positive pain because it is 
so unsatisfying, and I so love to feel her material pres- 
ence, to hold her in my arms and feel her kiss on my 
face. Dear Mrs. Travers, so long as we live in this 
poor, old-fashioned, every-day human world we must 
forever yearn for ‘ the touch of a vanished hand and the 
sound of a voice that is still’ But, indeed, I will try 


298 


THE SPANISH TBEASURE. 


not to be selfish in my grief, especially in the presence 
of the children, for it is not right to impose sorrows that 
can neither be known nor understood on young, grow- 
ing minds. I had so much of that in my own childhood 
that I can thoroughly understand the effect of it, — but 
in my case it was unavoidable. Ever since papa died 
my whole life has been gray except for the brightness 
of my mother’s love !” 

“ Oh, you dear girl !” exclaimed Mrs. Travers, affec- 
tionately. “ Don’t imagine for one moment that 1 
require any justification for your sadness ! It is only 
my wish to remove, or at least to lighten it, that made 
me speak of it. The childreji adore you, and they don’t 
find you sad — in fact, that is one reason why I allow 
you to fatigue yourself in your duties toward them. I 
see that you often forget yourself entirely in devotion 
to them. But Dolores, there are times when I cannot 
forgive myself for having lost trace of your mother. I 
had gone to Paris, to have what my mother called ‘ a 
few years’ finishing,’ and then I remained several years 
in France. When I returned to San Francisco I heard 
something of the ill-fortune that had overtaken your 
father ; but before I could trace your family and find 
out what had become of you, I went abroad again, with 
papa, and we spent several years in England ; it was 
there I was married, and there I lived for many years, 
only returning to California again for a brief visit. 
But, brief though it was, I tried to get some news of 
my dear Alice, but never could trace her. 

“Your father was at all times a very reticent man, 
and when misfortune overtook him I suppose he be- 
came still more so ; besides he was so devoted to Alice 
that, so long as he possessed her love, all else might go 
and he would neither know nor care, unless she suffered 
by it. She was literally the whole world to him.’’ 


IN THE SANTIAGO CANYON. 


299 


“ Yes,” said Dolores, a soft flush overspreading her 
pale, fine, delicate face, “ that was my dear father ! 
How often I have heard mamma speak of his love for 
her in just those words — and such a love is all the world 
and ought to be, to any man or woman.” 

“ Yes, I suppose so,” returned Mrs. Travers, musingly, 
“ a grand passion is a fine thing — when it is the real 
thing ; but I don’t think I am capable of it myself. 
Now you, Dolores, with such a father and mother as 
you had, I suppose when you fall in love it will be an 
absorbing affair — in fact, there is what one might call 
hereditary predisposition — ” 

I suppose so — I certainly hope so,” answered 
Dolores. The delicate flush that had overspread her 
face deepened to a vivid crimson on the soft, peach-like 
cheek. “ It is the only love worth knowing — the instant, 
irresistible passion of two kindred souls recognizing 
themselves as one, in the electric flash of a first moment- 
ary but all-sufficient look.” 

“ Oh, good gracious, Dolores !” cried Mrs. Travers, 
with an accent of comic despair. “ You speak with all 
the conviction of a perfect knowledge of the subject. I 
do hope you have not fallen in love with any one — at 
least, not yet.” 

“ I cannot answer that,” said Dolores, in confusion, 

because, though I feel that I know what love should 
be, I don!t yet know — oh, please, dear Mrs. Travers, 
don’t ask me any more about it !” 

“ Oh, Dolores !” groaned Mrs. Travers, “ don’t say — 
don’t tell me ! Or, rather, do tell me ; dear, I beg of 
you to answer me just one question : Is it ? Oh, say it 
is not that poor Henri Van Tassel ?” 

Dolores turned on her friend a look of such blank 
amazement, that Mrs. Travers felt herself most elo- 
quently answered, even before the astonished girl burst 


300 


THE SPANISH TREA8UKE. 


into peals of laughter — laughter which was repeated 
again and again, till the air reverberated with the sound, 
and the children glanced inquiringly but appreciatively 
toward their usually grave and restrained governess, 
whom they had never before known capable of such 
merriment. 

“ Poor Henri !” said Dolores, at last, “ I have told yon, 
from the first, that he was as a brother to me, and I am 
even more grateful for him than for myself to have 
found a home here ; it never dawned on me for a mo- 
ment that any one, least of all you, could mistake our 
relation toward each other.” 

“ Well, dear, I am very glad,” said Mrs. Travers, to 
have you deny it so emphatically, and the idea is per- 
fectly absurd, for I didn’t really suppose there was 
love of that sort between you and Van Tassel. But, my 
dear Dolores, the man simply worships you, and then 
you have many times g’one off over the mountains for 
long walks together, and you have always come back 
looking so very serious and often quite troubled.” 

‘‘That is true,” responded Dolores, very gravely, 
“ and there is much that we have spoken of that I 
would be glad to tell you about, and concerning which 
I am much in need of advice ; but, alas ! it involves 
the happiness of another whom I love more than my- 
self — my dear, dear Polly Hamilton.” 

“ ‘ Polly Hamilton ?’ Yes, you have told me of her, 
Dolores ; and, though you are too generous to say so, I 
am sure that man to whom she was engaged was really 
in love with you, and that is why you were obliged to 
steal away so mysteriously.” 

“ Yes, dear Mrs. Travers, I am obliged to let you 
guess that much ; but, please spare me from saying 
more. Perhaps I may never see dear Polly again ; 
indeed, knowing all that I do now, it will be impossible. 


IN THE SANTIAGO CANYON. 


301 


For she is by this time, or will be soon, married to Lord 
Clarence — ” 

“ ‘ Lord Clarence !’ ” exclaimed Mrs. Travers excit- 
edly. “You never called him so before! Surely it 
cannot be possible ? Is he Clarence Stanley ?” 

“ That was the name I knew him by,” said Dolores, 
in a very guarded tone. 

By this time she knew all that Van Tassel knew as 
to the identity of Clarence Stanley and Carlos Mendoza ; 
and her mind was torn with anxiety as to whether to 
keep the secret or make it known to the Hamiltons. 
She knew nothing of Polly since the hour she had 
parted from her, and she felt certain that Stanley, as 
soon as he should be reconciled to her, would urge 
a speedy marriage ; and, if they were already married, 
what terrible anguish would she inflict by the revela- 
tions she could now make concerning the false Lord 
Clarence Stanley. 

Mrs. Travers, had she been less excited by what she 
had just heard, might have read a part of this perplex- 
ity and trouble in the looks and tones of Dolores ; but 
her mind was wholly occupied with different ideas. 

“ How extraordinary this is !” she said, in answer to 
the words of Dolores. “ And how strange that I should 
be the one to give Lord Harold Moray this most inter- 
esting news. You must know, my dear, that there is 
the greatest anxiety in the Stanley family now to 
find this missing Lord Clarence. It was just about the 
time we left New York that the news was published 
of the death of Lord Appleby and his only 
child ; and a few days before I had met the heir-at-law, 
Lord Harold Moray, who had recently arrived in this 
country in search of the missing heir. Lord Appleby 
was still living when Lord Harold left England ; and 
the latter, so far from wishing the succession to Win- 


m 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


dermere for himself, had only one desire — to find Clar- 
ence Stanley, who was betrothed to Constance Moray ; 
and — oh dear — when he does find him now, how will it 
be, since you say he is probably married to Polly Ham- 
ilton ?” 

Dolores clasped her hands in despair and became 
quite pale. 

“ Oh, my poor, dear Polly !” she said, “ She has 
given her heart to a wretch — to a monster — I fear ; and 
everything I hear about him only confirms my own 
feeling against him, which declared itself from the first 
moment of our meeting.” 

“ Well, yes,” said Mrs. Travers, “ he seems to be 
something of a Don Giovanni. First he engages him- 
self to Lady Constance Moray ; then to your friend, 
Polly Hamilton, whom he would certainly have thrown 
over for you, if you had been willing. But that is the 
way with men, my dear. They are all like that, with a 
few exceptions, of course, which only prove the rule. 
But was there anything else about this fascinating 
Clarence, apart from his fickleness, that was particu- 
larly wrong ?” 

“ Oh, he was all wrong — everything about him ! ” 
Dolores began, impetuously. 

And then, remembering Polly, she shut her lips 
firmly, resolved not to speak another word on the dis- 
tressing subject until she could give it all most careful 
consideration in the solitude of her own thoughts. And 
what a horrible complication, aided now by the 
new light that Van Tassel had shed on Stanley, the 
whole affair had become ! How her heart ached for 
Polly ! And she felt disloyal toward her that she was 
obliged, even temporarily, to seem her rival. That, at 
least, she could explain to Mrs. Travers, and she said 
quickly : 


IN THE SANTIAGO CANYON. 


303 


“ But I must not let you suppose that I was the rival 
of dear Polly Hamilton. It was not so, as I assured 
her, and as I fervently hope she is now quite convinced. 
If that man was ever capable of loving any woman, he 
was in love with Polly. But the passion of his life was 
gold. He knew from the first that I was the direct and 
only true heir of the great Mendoza treasure, and he 
was simply insane on that subject. He has pursued it 
all his life, and in me he saw his ruling idea embodied. 
When he no longer sees me, his love will revert again 
to the buried treasure, and his allegiance to Polly, such 
as it is, will be as loyal as before he ever saw me.’* 

“ How strange, Dolores !” answered Mrs. Travers. 

And there may be something in what you say. The 
Stanley family is mixed up in relationship with a Span- 
ish family of your name, and so is Lord Harold Moray. 
Strange that I never thought of it before. I knew 
them quite well during my stay in England, but my 
acquaintance was more particularly with the Moray 
branch of the family. When I met Lord Harold in New 
York, of course he told me of his object in visiting the 
country, and that he was coming to California to follow 
up a clew which he had obtained in regard to his missing 
kinsman. Of course, I invited him when he should come 
this way to be my guest, and I am in momentary expec- 
tation of his arrival. Jim Sing has actually gone to the 
Santa Ana station to meet him, and by this time he is 
on his way through the canyon.” 

Dolores could not repress a slight start of apprehen- 
sion, and she said, in a visibly troubled manner : 

“ I am very sorry to hear this, dear ; it makes my 
position much more unpleasant. Oh, don’t ask me now ! 
I must think ; I must consider. If I am to meet this 
gentleman, and he is in search of Lord Clarence Stanley 
— oh, Mrs. Travers, I see that I shall have to tell you 


304 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


all I know about that man and take your advice, for 
Polly’s sake, as to what I ought to do.” 

“ My dear, I shall be delighted !” said Mrs. Travers, 
gayly. “ If there is anything I am most fitted for, be- 
yond all other things, it is the giving of advice. You 
will find that I have mines of wisdom garnered up inside 
this silly little head of mine. Even my severe husband 
is complimentary enough to say that I am not such a 
fool as I look. But tell me, Dolores, about this myste- 
rious Mendoza treasure, of which I used to hear ages ago. 
Have you no idea where it lies buried ?” 

“ Not in the least, except that it is concealed some- 
where in the Santiago Canyon.” 

“ In the Santiago Canyon ?” cried Mrs. Travers, 
excitedly. “ Why, this is the Santiago Canyon, right 
here, where we are now living !” 

“ Yes, I know it,” replied Dolores ; “I have known it 
ever since I came home with you ; and somewhere in 
this canyon my dear father found a grave. Death was 
the only treasure he found here, and,” she added sadly, 
“ perhaps it is the greatest of all treasures to those who 
find it. Certainly it is if it opens the gate to the only 
true life.” 

“ My dearest girl,” said Mrs. Travers, almost reprov- 
ingly — she quite dreaded a line of thinking to which 
she often thought Dolores too much inclined, and 
which, to her, seemed morbid — “ you know you prom- 
ised me not to have such gloomy thoughts. Do you 
know in what part of the canyon your poor father was 
buried ?” 

“ Mamma has often enough described the place — a 
little distance from a clump of sycamore trees, twelve 
trees growing out of a single root, she said, and on one 
of the trunks is carved the rudely outlined figure of an 
Indian woman ; I don’t know if that figure means any- 


IN THE SANTIAGO CANYON. 


305 


thing, but mamma and I have often thought that per- 
haps it was associated in some way with our Indian 
ancestor, and as papa was searching for the treasure at 
that time, he begged to be buried in that spot. Poor 
dear father ! His mind had broken down, and mamma 
could never understand his wild ravings about the 
buried treasure and its hiding-place.” 

“ And you have absolutely no clue ?” asked Mrs. 
Travers, in a disappointed tone. 

“ None at all ; papa had a paper or parchment or 
something of the sort, containing the whole secret, but 
he could not follow it out, and he had either lost the 
paper or else had so carefully hidden it that it was 
worse than lost. Mamma used to have wild hopes of 
finding it years ago, and even to the last she clung to 
the thought that I should yet be a great heiress. But 
I take no interest in it, Mrs. Travers, none at all ! 
Though I have indeed sought for the sycamore- trees, 
it has been to find my father’s grave ; it was my 
mother’s last earthly wish to be buried beside the hus- 
band she loved and who had adored her.” 

“ Oh, Dolores, dear child ! Why did you not tell me 
sooner,” said Mrs. Travers, in a voice tremulous with 
sympathetic feeling. “ I could have done much to 
further your desire ; I will immediately take steps to do 
so. Did you find the place ?” 

“ Not yet, but I shall surely do so ; those long ram- 
bles which you have seen me take in company with 
Henri have been in search of that clump of trees. I 
have at times almost despaired, and have wondered if 
they could have been a fanc)’' of mamma, or if some 
accident might not, in all these years, have destroyed 
the trees — ” 

“ No, no, the trees exist !” interrupted Mrs. Travers, 
eagerly, they are known as the haunted sycamores ; it 


306 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


is said that once every year, for ages past, on the 12th 
of October, a shadowy ghost is seen flitting about there ; 
it is a mere legend, of course, and no such thing occurs. 
Some effect of the moonlight, probably, but the ghost- 
story has served to locate the spot, and it can easily be 
found.” 

“On the 12th of October,” repeated Dolores, “oh, 
why did I not tell you sooner ! I have lost so much 
time !” 

“ Don’t be troubled about that, Dolores — the right 
time always comes — even when we think we have lost 
it. And I hope it has come now,” she added irrele- 
vantly, rising and taking a hasty step or two toward a 
gentleman who was rapidly approaching her across the 
lawn. 

So much engaged had they been in their conversa- 
tion that neither had heard the approach of the carriage 
on the road at some distance ; and for the moment, 
both had forgotten the expected arrival of a guest. 

Dolores also rose, and with a vague, delighted flutter 
of anticipation, her gaze was fixed on the approaching 
stranger — she could not be mistaken ! There was not 
in all the world such another, so gracious, graceful, dis- 
tinguished in bearing, so refined, elegant and abso- 
lutely perfect, in the elevated and the spiritual beauty 
of his countenance ; and now he too, had recognized 
her, and once more two lovely and kindred souls 
seemed looking at each other out of their eyes, and 
recognizing some close and eternal relationship in that 
long, deep gaze. 

“ My dear Dolores,” said Mrs. Travers, “ this is my 
friend, Lord Harold Moray — Lord Harold, the Sefior- 
ita Mendoza.” 

Dolores put out her hand — her lovely white, trem- 
bling hand ; and Lord Harold, clasping it in his, felt 


“love’s youno dream.” 


307 


himself thrilled to the heart by that first touch of the 
warm, pink, sensitive palm. 

He bowed low over her hand, and with difficulty re- 
frained from raising it to his lips ; and Mrs. Travers 
thought : 

“Well, certainly, they have made an impression on 
each other. I could not reasonably hope for more, on 
a first acquaintance. But is it the first ? Can it be pos- 
sible that they have met before ?” 


CHAPTER XXX. 

“ love’s young dream.” 

“ Well, I never believed in it, and couldn’t now if T 
hadn’t seen it,” exclaimed Mrs. Travers, “ but this is 
certainly convincing evidence that it really does some- 
times happen.” 

“ What are you talking about, Nell ?” asked her hus- 
band. “ What is it that sometimes happens ? Perhaps 
you don’t know that you are just a little more incoher- 
ent than usual. What is the particular thing you never 
believed in before ?” 

“ Why, love at first sight, of course ; and there is a 
case of it, enough to convince the most skeptical.” 
And, with a sweeping wave of her hand, she indicated 
Dolores and Lord Harold Moray, who were just disap- 
pearing in the distance through an avenue of rose-trees 
and odorous flowering shrubs, all in full bloom, though 
it was already the first week in October. “ It is cer- 
tainly not more than a fortnight since I presented those 
two to each other, although, as Dolores has since told 


308 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


me, they had met before for one fleeting moment, and 
in that moment they evidently lost their hearts to each 
other. The very instant they met here, I saw in the 
first glance that they were already deep in love with 
each other.” 

“ How provoking !” laughed Travers. “And you had 
set your heart on making them fall in love with each 
other ; not a bit of practice for your brilliant gifts 
at match-making. I really fear, my dear, you will have 
to keep all your talents for home use ; fortunately, we 
have daughters. But, I’m afraid you’ll have to be look- 
ing for another governess.” 

“Just what I have been thinking! However, I 
shall wait till the present one gives warning. Dolores 
has not yet told me of her engagement to Lord Har- 
old.” 

“ And he seems to have quite forgotten his object in 
coming to California. Has he any news yet of Lord 
Clarence Stanley ?” 

“Oh, don’t speak of him ! He never will ; that’s all 
a fearful mystery. But I can’t explain — I dare not — it 
isn’t my secret, Travers, therefore I must keep it to 
myself.” 

“ For goodness sake do, then !” said her husband, 
with devout earnestness, “ though, if you do, it will be 
the first time.” 

Mrs. Travers sighed deeply, and turned awa}^ with 
closely compressed lips. Dolores had explained a great 
many things to her, and they had both concluded that, 
for the sake of Polly Hamilton, neither of them could 
speak to Lord Harold of the man who called himself 
Clarence Stanley, “ though, even if he has married Miss 
Hamilton, the secret will be out as soon as he claims his 
title in England. How I wish Dolores would let me 


“love’s young dreajvi.” 309 

take Travers into our confidence. I would like to look 
at the whole matter from a man’s point of view.” 

She walked to the other side of the wide piazza and 
stood looking- over the prospect of distant mountains 
and undulating valleys, now sere and yellow from the 
dry heat of summer, although flowers, both wild and 
cultivated, were in full bloom in every direction. 

“ It is too earl)" yet to hope for rain,” she said, aloud ; 
fearing if she kept silence that her secret — which she 
was quite frantic to share with her husband — would, by 
the very pressure of that desire, escape from her keep- 
ing. “ How fine the young orange-trees on that level 
slope near the base of Old Saddleback are looking ; I 
can feel the odor of the blossoms as far off as where I 
am now.” 

Mr. Travers smiled at this transparent effort on the 
part of his wife to keep from talking on a more con- 
genial subject. 

Well,” he said, “ orange-blossoms will be quite in 
order, according to your present surmise ; and I am 
glad the bridegroom is not likely to be that rather luny 
protegS oi yours. Van Tassel, though I must admit that 
the fellow more than earns his ‘ keep.’ He has excel- 
lent abilities, and since I have put him on as a kind of 
overseer, the workmen, both white and yellow, in every 
department of our ranch, attend to their business in a 
most satisfactory manner.” 

“ Do they really, now, Travers !” exclaimed his wife. 
“ I am very glad to hear it ! But it was quite absurd 
in both of us— you and me— to imagine any such non- 
sense in regard to Van Tassel. Poor fellow ! He was 
a complete wreck when Dolores took him in charge. 
He had been in the power of a horrid man who had 
hypnotized him, and by means of his uncanny influence 
over him could make him do almost as he pleased. Oh, 


310 


THE SPANISH TKEASUEE. 


it was horrible ! The very thought of such a thing 
frightens me ; and the poor fellow is now as completely 
under the influence of Dolores ; but hers is all for good. 
She makes every one better and nobler. It was on the 
very night she came to us, on the way to the hotel, that 
she suddenly felt as though some one were calling on her 
for help, and leaving the cab which was taking her to 
the hotel, she hastened along the street through which 
they had just driven and before she had walked half a 
block, she met this poor, demented Van Tassel, in a 
perfectly frantic condition, coming out of a house, into 
which he had been forced to go, against his will, to 
commit a horrible crime. But I will tell you all about 
that another time,” Mrs. Travers concluded, hastily, 
because, you see, it is a part of the secret that I must 
not tell you yet.” 

“ Well, really, Mrs. Travers, I hope you are becoming 
mysterious enough,” said her husband lightly, very little 
impressed by all this mystery, which was only amusing 
to his masculine mind, untroubled by a vestige of curi- 
osity. “ And, as the old saying is, ‘ talk of the What- 
you-may-call-him, and you see his hoof.’ Here comes 
Van Tassel, and he looks sufficiently calm and collected 
to satisfy any one.” 

Mrs. Travers turned, and saw the professor approach- 
ing them, quickly, but without any appearance of excite- 
ment ; and the few months during which he had been 
engaged in regular and interesting work, and under the 
soothing and elevating influence of Dolores Mendoza, 
had, indeed, made a new man of him. He was no longer 
the wreck of humanity he had been when she first saw 
him. He stood upright and looked people straight in 
the eyes. He was slender and pale by nature, but both 
face and figure were now rounded and filled out, and 
his pallor was no longer cadaverous but simply that of 


‘‘love’s young deeam.” 


311 


a complexion by nature the reverse of ruddy ; but, above 
all, the pathetic expression of loss which had so distin- 
guished him from all others was gone. He had regained 
his will-power, and he had overcome his craving for 
stimulants in every form. He was well and becomingly 
dressed ; and while to Mr. Travers he always remained 
a rather puny and insignificant specimen of manhood, 
Mrs. Travers observed that he was growing quite good- 
looking ; and though it was ridiculous to think of him 
as a possible lover for Dolores, there was no reason in 
the world why some woman might not yet fall in love 
with the amiable little Professor Van Tassel. 

“ It is for the Sefiorita,” he said, holding up a letter 
as he reached the veranda ; and coming toward Mrs. 
Travers, he extended the letter toward her. “ See, 
Madam, the post-mark shows that it is from New York, 
and the handwriting is that of a lady ; and I am sure 
there is only one lady in New York who would be writ- 
ing to Dolores Mendoza.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Van Tassel ! Yes, indeed, you are right !” 
exclaimed Mrs. Travers, sharing his thought immedi- 
ately. “ And she will be so glad to get that letter ! So 
very glad ! Can’t 5’-ou take it to her at once ? She is 
out walking with Lord Harold. They have gone to- 
ward the trees. You know where. The haunted syca- 
mores !” And she pointed toward the avenue of roses 
and flowering shrubs through which she had seen the 
lovers disappear in the direction of the upper end of 
the long, wide canyon. “ I am sure you could overtake 
them, for they were walking very slowly.” 

Van Tassel needed no urging, and bowing hastily to 
Mrs. Travers, he turned in the direction she had indi- 
cated and walked rapidly away, nor did he moderate 
his pace until he saw before him the two persons of 
whom he was in quest. Lord Harold Moray had 


312 


THE SPANISH TKEASURE. 


drawn the ungloved little hand of his companion close 
within his arm ; and in the slender, undulating figure 
of Dolores, insensiby inclined toward him till her 
graceful head almost touched his shoulder, there was 
an eloquent confession, stronger than words, of the sen- 
timent that drew them together. 

Van Tassel’s gaze rested on that exquisite form, to 
him the loveliest and noblest in the world, and insensi- 
bly his rapid pace grew slower, and he approached 
them so gently and with such careful steps that he 
could soon have heard their whispered words, if he had 
cared to. But he was not desirous of playing the spy 
on them even for a moment. His gaze dwelt on Dolores 
with ardent admiration, but his sentiment for the beau- 
tiful girl who had rescued him from destruction, whose 
pure and ennobling influence had made her the guard- 
ian angel of his soul, was more that of adoration for a 
being infinitely exalted above him than anything 
approaching merely human love. With his knowledge 
of Carlos Mendoza and Clarence Stanley, added to what 
he knew of Moray and his quest for the missing heir, 
he could readily guess at the perplexed state of mind 
from which Dolores must be suffering, in her desire to 
be loyal toward her friend and frank and outspoken 
toward her lover ; and, guessing from whom the letter 
must be, he was fervently hoping that its contents 
might in some way cut through this entanglement. 
The instant he had approached sufficiently near to hear 
the low, whispered tones of the lovers, he spoke at once, 
before he could have time to overhear the least word 
that passed between them : 

“ I have brought you this letter, sefiorita, because I 
knew you would wish to have it immediately.” 

Dolores turned instantly at the sound of his voice. 

Oh, thank you, Henri ; thank you so much !” she 


“love’s young dream.” 


313 


said, pressing her lips to the dear, familiar handwriting 
whose exercises in Spanish she had so often corrected. 

“ Dear, darling Polly ! But how in the world has she 
found me out ? It is from Polly Hamilton, Harold,” 
she said, “and oh — ” 

She stopped suddenly, with a distressing feeling that, 
whether she spoke or remained silent, she must be 
guilty of seeming treachery either to the one man or 
the one woman in the world whom she loved best ; and 
then, with a deep sigh, she tore open the letter. 

“ At least I must read what she says,” she thought, 
“ and then — ” 

She read hurriedly, wildly, delightedly, hardly daring 
to believe in the good news ; and again more calmly, 
but with a thrilling sense of freedom and joy. Then, 
with a long-drawn breath of relief from pent-up sus- 
pense and anxiety, she placed the letter in her lover’s 
hands. 

“Read, dear Harold,” she said, “and then I will 
explain, and rid my mind forever of a painful secret — 
the only one that can ever come between you and me.” 

Wondering very much, but with perfect confidence 
that whatever Dolores bade him do must be the right 
thing to be done. Lord Harold Moray read Polly Hamil- 
ton’s letter : 

“ At last, my darling Rita, have I found you ? For 
weeks and months I have sought you — from New York 
to San Francisco — all over California, as I thought ; 
then, on a false clue, back again to New York, to find 
here that I ought to have stayed where I was — but no 
matter ! For here I find what, I am quite sure now, is 
the right clue. I hear that a Mrs. Travers of Santiago 
Canyon, near Santa Ana, has a Spanish governess for 
her little girls ; that the governess comes from the 


314 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


East (all pearls of price comes from the East, dear), 
that her name is Dolores, and my heart tells me she is 
my own dear Rita ! Am I right — am I right ? Oh, 

I can’t bear any more disappointments and I am com- 
ing to see for myself, so that you may expect me 
almost as soon as my letter ; for as soon as papa can 
settle his business affairs here, we are returning to our 
own dear home to stay there, and I shall see you once 
again — you, dearer than all other girls in the world ! 
Write to me, dear, at the enclosed address, San Fran- 
cisco, for there is now no further excuse for hiding 
yourself from me. 

“ That man, Rita ! Oh, can I ever write his name 
without trembling ? But I shall — I do ! Believe me, 
dear, it is only memory, a memory of what never 
existed, that makes me tremble ; for I tell you truly 
from my heart, Rita, that Clarence Stanley is less than 
nothing to me now — not even a memory, not even a 
name ! You dear girl ! It was not worth breaking 
my heart and your own, too (for I know you have 
suffered equally in our separation), by running away 
from me, that he might see you no more. Rita, dear- 
est, he never returned, neither to protest, excuse, make 
love to me again or attempt to win you from me ! 
Gone at once he was, and forever ; and, though it near- 
ly killed me at the moment, I have since learned to 
kneel in gratitude to Heaven for saving me from such 
a man. He has married Olive Gaye, and together they 
must now be somewhere in England ; though, strange 
to say, I hear nothing from Lady Clarence Stanley ; 
perhaps she is waiting to send me her cards as the 
Countess of Windermere. And now, dearest, this will 
surely prove to you how unnecessary is further con- 
cealment on your part. Let me hear from you at once. 
The loss of you is an insupportable grief, Rita, for you 


LOVE S YOUNG DREAM. 


315 


« 


are dearer than any man can ever be to the longing, 
loving heart of “ Polly Hamilton.” 

“And this man, then — this Clarence Stanley ?” asked 
Moray, in utter bewilderment. “ This is all so unlike 
our dear Clarence ! Engaged to this young lady, false 
to her, false to Constance, and basely marrying a third ? 
Oh, it cannot be !” 

“ Nor is it true, Harold,” said Dolores, sadly and 
gravely. ” Your sister’s lover is dead ; but she is more 
fortunate than my dear Polly, for she can mourn a true 
and honest lover and cherish his memory — ” 

“ Dead ! Clarence Stanley dead !” said Lord Harold. 
“ Oh, poor Constance ! It is cold comfort I must bring 
back to you, my sister ! But who then /s this man who 
has been masquerading as Clarence Stanley ?” 

Dolores turned an appealing look toward Van Tassel, 
and it was he who answered : 

“ His name is Carlos Mendoza, Lord Harold, and he 
is the man who killed your kinsman, Clarence Stanley.” 

“His murderer? Stanley murdered!” cried Moray, 
recoiling in horror. 

“ It was a fair fight — fair enough,” said Van Tassel, 
gravely. “ I was the sole witness, and I can tell you the 
story truly as it happened.” 



CHAPTER XXXL 

A GHOSTLY AVENGER. 

About midway between the entrance to the Santiago 
Canyon and the picturesque residence of Mrs. Travers 
stands a very dilapidated, tumble-down old shanty, 
known as the Mexican’s hut. Whoever the Mexican 
was to whom it originally belonged, and from whom it 
inherits this by no means distinctive appellation, he 
took particularly good care that it should inherit noth- 
ing else. The inside of the hut was as barren of any- 
thing as any four walls could possibly be ; and though, 
occasionally, a centipede, a green and glittering lizard, 
a scorpion, a tarantula, or even a lurking rattler, on a 
voyage of discovery from the adjacent rocky hills and 
mountains, might invade its solitude, there was, as a 
rule, no living thing so forlorn as to think of taking up 
its abode there for any length of time. This was, no 
doubt, why it seemed, notwithstanding all other disad- 
vantages, the very place most suited to the purpose of 
an enterprising couple who wished to explore the can- 
yon with a secrecy which, for some days, they had 
sought in vain. 

“ This is the place, Olive,” said Lord Clarence Stan- 
ley to his charming young wife. “ It is entirely off the 
ordinary route ; it is not more than half a mile distant 
from the spot ; our presence here will be totally unsu§- 
I3i6j 


A GHOSTLY AVENGER. 


317 


pected, and as the man who drove us to the entrance of 
the canyon has returned to Santa Ana, and supposes 
that we are cranky tourists from the East who prefer to 
walk rather than ride to make our visit to the Travers 
people, we shall be absolutely undisturbed here for the 
rest of the day and evening.” 

“ Ugh !” exclaimed Lady Clarence, holding up her 
skirts and stepping gingerly across the dry, earthen 
floor. “ I hope there are no snakes nor horrid spiders 
nor things ! Southern California may be an earthly 
paradise for those who like that sort of thing ; but 
Gardens of Eden somehow always produce serpents ; 
and for my part brown-stone palaces and civilization 
are good enough for me !” 

“ Oh, all right !” was the impatient rejoinder. 
“ When we get through this business you can have all 
the palaces you want ! Don’t be absurd ! There are 
neither snakes nor spiders ; I have been all through 
the place carefully ; and, except ourselves, there isn’t a 
living creature anywhere about for miles in any direc- 
tion.” 

While he spoke he had been opening a couple of 
camp-stools, which he now set down in the middle of 
the room, and alongside of them a lunch-basket. 

“ I have observed that you lose your temper when 
you are hungry, Olive, and as I shall want to draw on 
your full stock of amiability, perhaps I have taken the 
necessary precautions.” 

“ Now, Clarence, that is really very nice and thought- 
ful of you,” said Olive, laughing, “ and as this canyon 
air is decidedly appetizing, I don’t care how soon you 
open the basket.” 

Stanley looked about for something on which he 
could improvise a table ; and going to a corner of the 
apartment he returned with a pick-axe and spade both 


318 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


of which he stuck deep into the earthen floor, about 
three feet apart, and by means of some stout cord he 
hung the lunch basket by its handles between them. 

“ Now, madam,” he said gayly, ‘‘ if you will draw for- 
ward your chair, by means of this napkin spread over 
your knee, and this little goblet held in your dainty 
hand, you can help yourself from the swinging table, 
and I will fill your glass with the best wine of the coun- 
try. It has a great reputation, I can assure you ; and 
if you are ignorant of the taste of Mumm or Pommery, 
it may pass for champagne.” 

Olive held out her goblet for the foaming wine, and, 
drinking to the success of their enterprise, declared the 
wine of the country to be a most excellent beverage ; 
and with laugh and jest these two regaled themselves 
with as hearty a meal, as thoroughly enjoyed, as if they 
had been seated at their hotel, many miles away. 

“ And now, Clarence, how soon will it be safe to set 
out in search of the hiding-place ?” 

The man consulted his watch and declared with some 
surprise that it was already five o’clock. 

“ Later than I thought, Olive ; and as I have to carry 
that heavy pick-axe and spade, perhaps we may as well 
start forth now. I don’t think we shall meet any one, 
and the place being utterly secluded and, to judge by 
the appearance of it, never visited, I can begin work at 
once.” 

“ The pick and spade have a rather ghastly look,” 
said Olive, while her husband tied up the lunch-basket 
and secured the implements for his work. “ It is 
mightily suggestive of grave-digging isn’t it ! You 
will need be careful not to turn up the buried papa of 
your saintly Dolores instead of the other treasure. He 
must have been buried somewhere about here.” 


A GHOSTLY AVENGER. 


319 


“ Stop talking of her ! You are not fit to speak her 
name, Olive,” said the man with brutal frankness. 

His wife turned a furious look upon him and bit her 
lips hard to repress the bitter retort that rose to them. 
What was the matter with him ? He had been strangely 
defiant and independent all day. Well, she would wait 
till the business in hand was safely over, and then she 
would let him know who was master. Meantime, she 
would presently find a way of administering a gentle 
and timely rebuke. 

“Well, then,” she said amiably, “let’s be going; but 
this time I hope there is no mistake, Carlos ; this time 
we are really on sure grounds ? The real Richmond 
this time, eh ? Five have we slain instead of him !” 

“ ‘ The real Richmond ?’ ‘ Five !’ What do 5^011 

mean ?” he asked, testily, folding up the camp-chairs 
and putting them, with the luncheon-basket, into a 
corner of the apartment. 

“ Only a quotation from a well-known play, my dear 
Carlos, really. For an English gentleman, you are sin- 
gularly ignorant of the literature of your country. 
You really must read up a bit before we go to Eng- 
land.” 

“Oh — ah — yes ! All right. I’ll do so,” and he caught 
up the pick and spade. Pausing a moment, he came 
back a step or two and faced the young woman, and it 
seemed to her that there was something strangely men- 
acing in his face and manner. 

“ Olive,” he said with an air of serene tranquility, 
that his wife had already learned to dread, “ I want to 
remind you once more that you have a bad habit of 
forgetting my name. It comes of your infatuation 
about that scamp of a fellow, Carlos Mendoza ; and by 
the way, speaking of him, here is something that may 
interevSt you.” 


THE SPAI^ISH TREASURE. 


320 

He drew a folded newspaper from his jDreast-pocket 
and gave it to her, indicating a particular paragraph. 

“As you will see, it is a New York paper, a week 
old. I picked it up by chance, in the reading-room 
of the hotel, this morning. We have been rushing 
about so that many items of news must have escaped 
us.” 

Olive took the paper. With a sinking of the heart, 
for which she could not account she didn’t look at it 
immediately. 

“ Yes, Clarence, we have been driving about, and 
wasting an immense deal of valuable time ; but it 
couldn’t be helped. No one could imagine there were 
so many Santiago Canyons in California. It seems to 
be a favorite name ; those old Spaniards must have 
doted on Saint James. How many have we explored ? 
This is the sixth, isn’t it ?” 

“Yes, the sixth ; but no mistake this time. I have 
found the sycamores, the figure of the Indian woman 
everything precisely according to description ; I have 
measured the distances, and I know the very spot into 
which I must strike my pick-axe ; and, by Jove, I long 
to get at it !” 

He strode through the doorway and out into the 
bright light. Olive followed him, the paper rustling 
nervously in her hand ; it had been too dark within the 
hut to see the print clearly, and she paused a moment 
now, with the full light on the page, and her glance 
roved quickly through the paragraph which her hus; 
band had pointed out to her : 


A. GHOSTLY AYENGER, 


321 


MYSTERIOUS TRAGEDY. 

Groundless Suspicion Against The Unknown 
Carlos Mendoza. 

Baron Von Helmholtz Found Dead On His Wife’s 
Grave in Greenwood — Suicide — Shot Through the 
Heart — A Letter Found On His Person in Which 
He Confessed Himself the Murderer Through Jeal- 
ousy of His Beautiful Wife — His Own Death, and 
Confession the Expiation of His Crime.” 

A sigh that was almost a groan of despairing disap- 
pointment on the part of the reader accented the con- 
clusion of this unexpected paragraph. The man, who 
was a little way ahead, turned and looked at his wife, 
and seeing her pale, almost livid, with wide, wild eyes, 
he smiled pleasantly. 

“ Clarence,” she murmured, “ then it was nof Van 
Tassel after all ?” 

“ Evidently not. Van was a blind fool at all times, 
and he must have dropped the dagger there when he 
made the first attempt. The baron picked it up, and 
apparently knew how and when to use it.” 

Olive ground her little white teeth together. She 
had forever lost the hold she had so triumphed in pos- 
sessing over her husband, who threw back his head and 
made a pretense of loosening his collar button as if 
suddenly relieved of an uncomfortable pressure about 
the neck. 

“ Any way, your hypnotic suggestion was ‘ no good,’ ” 
she said, with a wicked little laugh. 

Not a bit,” returned her husband merrily. “ Your 
jealous suggestion knocked it all out. It was you, little 
girl, that lighted the fuse that fired that mine, and so 


322 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


adieu, baron, Celestine and Carlos Mendoza ! Adieu, 
adieu, forever !” 

Olive crumpled the newspaper into a tight wad and 
flung it viciously into a clump of sage-brush. 

“ But Van Tassel ?” she said, presently. “ Since it 
was not he, and since he disappeared with the Mendoza, 
where are they T 

“ Echo answers : ‘ Where ?’ " returned her companion, 
with insolent composure. “ When I am through with 
this night’s work it will be time enough to think of them.” 

Olive made no reply. For the first time in her life 
she felt that fate had let go of her hand ; and she walked 
on beside the man she had accounted her slave, with 
the new and very bitter conviction growing upon her 
that he would henceforth be her master. 

The minutes passed silently and slowly. For nearly 
half an hour neither spoke ; but at last Olive said, 
wearily : 

“ It is terribly hot ! I am very tired !” 

“ Tired ? Pooh ! Pooh ! I shall need you to encour- 
age me !” returned Stanley. “Think of the work that 
I have to do, and you complaining already ! But it is 
hot ! Olive, you are right. We shall soon be there, 
however ; and it is the coolest place in the whole can- 
yon, when we get there — cool as a vault, a veritable 
burying-place.” 

“Stop !” his wife exclaimed shrilly. “You make me 
nervous ! However, even a vault would be welcome 
after this torrid heat. Oh, the air is fairly stifling !” 

“ Rest a moment, then,” said her companion, with a 
sudden inflection of sympathy in his voice, and drop- 
ping the pick and spade, points downward, against the 
ground ; “ it is confoundedly hot, and we have been 
walking too fast !” 


A GHOSTLY AVENGER. 


323 


They both glanced around, and a cool breeze from 
the west blew toward them. 

“ See, the sun is sinking,” said Olive ; “ what a lurid, 
fiery sunset, and what a strange, sulphurous smell the 
air has, though it is blowing cooler already.” 

‘‘ It always turns cool here immediately the sun 
sinks,” returned Stanley, again shouldering his pick and 
spade. “ California beats the world for unexpected- 
ness ; you never know what will happen next ! But, 
come on, I want to get well started before the daylight 
is gone, and then I can keep on well enough till the 
moon rises— she must be about the second quarter by 
this time — Halloa ! What is that ? Can those be fig- 
ures moving on that mountain ? People or cattle, which 
is it ?” 

Olive looked as he directed, and distinctly saw two 
figures, a man and a woman, on the brow of a mountain 
that in the clear, still, deceptive light, seemed but a few 
yards away ; and instinctively she drew closer to her 
husband. 

If they should see us ?” she whispered. 

“ They can’t ; we are concealed in this hollow ; their 
figures stand out right against the sky. They must be 
in want of exercise to take such a climb in this heat.” 

The slight figure of the woman moved and turned 
toward the man— it was Dolores — and at that moment 
she was saying : 

Mrs. Travers managed it all, and I have scarcely 
known anything about it. She has been so kind. Dear 
mamma — it was a dream I never hoped to realize, and. 
to-morrow they will place all that remains of her in the 
same grave with papa ; it is so right and fitting that it 
should be to-morrow, because that is the anniversary of 
papa’s death.” 

“The 1 2th of October, is it, dearest? That will 


824 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


indeed be a fitting anniversary. Perhaps the troubled 
spirit of our Indian ancestor will rest from that time." 

Perhaps so," said Dolores, seriously. “ I hope you 
won’t think it very fanciful, Harold, but I want to walk 
to the sycamores to-night." 

“ If you are equal to it, Dolores ; it is so very sultry." 

Not more so than it has been for several days," she 
answered, reassuringly. “ What we call earthquake- 
weather in California — only the earthquakes seldom 
come when we are looking for them. We will go by 
this path round the mountain, and so down into the 
valley." 

She put her hand within his, and they disappeared 
round the brow of the mountain. 

" There ! They have gone !" said Olive, who had 
been silently watching the two dark figures, like sil- 
houettes against the clear evening light. " I am not 
sure if they were real or merely visionary, Clarence ; 
for whom do you think they looked like to me ?" 

“ I am sure I can’t guess," he returned. “ But here 
we are at last. Behold, there are the mystic sycamores. 
Count them for yourself. One, two, three ! So there 
are twelve, aren’t there ?" 

“Yes," responded, Olive, in her suddenly awakened 
interest, forgetting all about the two figures that had 
seemed so strangely familiar. “ At last and beyond a 
doubt we have come to the right place now." 

And she ran quickly forward, quite oblivious of her 
late fatigue ; and looking closely at the separated trunks 
all growing from a single root, she quickly found the 
one on which had been carved the outline of the Indian 
woman’s figure. 

“ There she is !" cried Olive, in triumph, “ The poor 
Gold-Flower herself, unhappy victim to a wasted love 1 
And only see, Clarence ! Some one has shot an arrow 


A GHOSTLY AVENGER. 


325 


straight through her heart ! An Indian arrow it must 
have been. How strong and tipped with some hard 
metal ! The point is standing straight out from the 
wood ?” 

“ Be careful !” exclaimed her husband, reaching her 
at a stride. “ Don’t touch the cursed thing ! It may- 
be poisoned ! They always are !” 

Olive felt a thrill of delighted surprise. He was 
alarmed for her safety. After all, then, he really cared 
for her. But in a moment the feeling passed, as she 
remembered that it was not her he loved, but himself ; 
for without her he was powerless to deceive Toddlekins, 
the one only being who could not be deceived in any 
way. She sighed bitterly and then reflected that, at 
least, it was well to know that she was valued and just 
how much. 

She sat down upon a little mound at a distance, all 
unconscious that it was the grave of the father whose 
memory was so dearly cherished by Dolores ; and from 
that, his last resting-place, she watched her husband 
strike his pick-axe into the ground that covered the 
treasure of the buried Mendozas. 

A slow quarter of an hour went by, then another ; 
and fast and steadily fell the blows of the pick-axe in 
the dry, sandy, pebbly ground. The man who wielded 
it had learned the business well in many a mining- 
camp, and all his old-time expertness and strength 
came back to him now ; and as he tossed aside the pick 
and catching up the spade shoveled out the loose earth, 
he glanced occasionally, with a slight, triumphant 
laugh, toward Olive. 

But, on a sudden, he uttered a strange, hoarse cry, 
and the spade dropped from his hand ; a chill, curdling, 
cold sensation, as if ice had been dropped down his 
back, made him shiver ; and then he stood gaping, 


326 


THE SPANISH TREASUEE. 


stupidly silent, horribly gaping straight ahead of him 
on through the gathering dusk ; his gaze seemed turned 
to fire, as if it would burn through the thing at which 
it looked. 

“ Clarence ! Clarence !” cried Olive, as she rushed 
to him and seized his stiff, motionless arm. “ What is 
it ? What is the matter ? Are you hurt ? 

“ There ! There !” whispered the hoarse voice. “ Do 
you see nothing !” 

“ Nothing,” answered Olive, a horrible chill of some 
unknown, un formulated fear causing her teeth to rattle 
against one another as she spoke. Then, with an 
almost heroic effort to throw off this bodiless terror, she 
continued : 

“ Nothing, Clarence ; there is absolutely nothing but 
the sycamore trees and the miserable presentment of 
the Indian woman. Come, be a man ! Cheer up ! 
Take again your pick and spade, delve a little deeper, 
and soon, very soon, you will uncover the treasure that 
will make a king and queen of you and me ; for with 
such wealth we can do anything !” 

“ By Heaven, you are a bold girl, Olive, and well 
worth working for !” 

She stooped, and snatching at the pick, put it into 
his hand. 

The man set to work again vigorously ; and pounding 
the earth with all his strength, the point of the pick 
suddenly struck, with a ringing sound, against some 
metallic surface. At the same moment, there was a 
rocking, swaying motion that seemed to shake the 
earth to its foundation. Olive uttered a shrill shriek of 
terror, and the next moment she felt herself flung vio- 
lently forward, and she fell, clutching at the loose 
earth and gravel. But only for a minute. Struggling 
to her feet again she rushed toward her husband. 


THE TWELFTH OP OCTOBER, 1 892. 


327 


“ Clarence !” she screamed. “ What is it ? Oh, if 
you are a man, help me, save me !” 

But Clarence Stanley stood motionless, stricken, 
paralyzed — one frozen, rigid arm stretched into space, 
the extended fingers pointing outward, and the voice, 
like that of a gibbering idiot, muttering incoherent 
babble : 

“ Yes, yes — the wrong Indian woman ! She — she — 
she ! Her curse weighs me down ! See, oh, see ! Her 
avenging spirit calls me away I” 

Olive looked. Her frenzied gaze followed the line of 
those outstretched frozen fingers, and there, before 
them, she seemed to see a luminous face, with burning 
eyes shining through a translucent mist. She shrieked 
aloud and, turning, fled ; and then the earth, heaved 
again and shook and yawned like some great monster ; 
and after that, all was still. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE TWELFTH OF OCTOBER, 1892. 

Dolores and Moray had almost reached the group of 
sycamores when the first earthquake shock was felt. 
They had loitered, with the indifference of lovers as to 
the flight of time, on their slow and winding walk ; and 
it was the purple dusk of the California twilight, soon 
to be pierced by the silvery splendor of an early-rising 
moon. But as yet no moon was visible ; there was a 
strange, still oppressiveness in the air ; the dusky twi- 
light seemed to deepen and thicken, and Dolores sud- 
denly stopped and clung to the arm on which she had 


328 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


been leaning, while a slight shudder, as of some impend- 
ing calamity, shook her from head to foot. 

“ What a curious night ! Thereus something vaguely 
threatening and awful in this atmosphere. The moon 
is surely very late in showing her fair, bright face to- 
night.” 

“ She is always kind to lovers,” said Moray, laugh- 
ingly, and stooping to press his lips on the rippling, 
silken hair that was being blown against his face. A 
slight breeze had risen suddenly, but it was not cool ; 
it seemed, indeed, hot and laden with a sulphurous 
odor. 

“ What is that sound ?” asked Dolores. “ Do you 
hear it, Harold ? It is like some heavy weight pound- 
ing the ground.” 

“ Yes, it is. Perhaps the ghost walks to-night. This 
is her anniversary,” he answered lightly. “ But she 
can hardly be digging a grave. Ghosts are more 
inclined to get out of them. That is surely the sound 
of a pick-axe.” 

“ Oh, Harold ! Harold !” 

Dolores gave a quick, sharp cry of sudden irrepres- 
sible terror, and her lover’s arms closed around her with 
the instinct of protection ; and then, for what might 
have been a minute or an hour, they stood clinging to 
each other, while the ground seemed no longer solid 
earth, but a quaking bog. It shook, it rocked, it trem- 
bled — and then slowly it settled into quiet and was 
still — awfully still, leaving on the minds of those who 
had felt the shock a provoking impression of having 
suffered from some huge, practical joke. 

“ I suppose this is what you call an earthquake, in 
this astonishing country,” said Lord Harold, presently. 

“Yes,” said Dolores rather tremulously; “I don’t 
think it is over ; it will come again.” 


THE TWELFTH OF OOTOBEK, 1 892 . 


329 


The words had scarcely passed her lips when a sec- 
ond shock almost flung them off the ground. It was 
much more violent than the first. There was a wild 
confusion in the air ; spots of light seemed to dart like 
electric flashes, to and fro ; great cracks and fissures 
opened in the ground ; there was the crash as of trees 
uprooted. And through all this noisy outbreak of 
nature’s hidden passions came the sound of wild, excited, 
human voices, and one prolonged thrilling shriek. 

After that, another long silence. Dolores did not 
speak for many minutes, nor did her companion ; but 
he held her, calmly, closely, strongly to his breast, and 
though she trembled it was only a nervous tremor. He 
knew that she was not afraid. 

Suddenly the air cleared, as if some great wing had 
cleft it asunder, and the moon’s splendor burst forth 
with a light almost as brilliant as that of day. 

“ It is over now,” said Dolores. “ Let us go on, 
Harold, Oh, look there ! The sycamores have been 
torn up by the roots, and the trunks lie strewed upon 
the ground !” 

They hurried forward, talking excitedly. 

“ I heard voices !” said one. 

“ Yes, I heard them, too,” returned the other, “ and a 
shriek of terror !” 

“It was a woman’s voice ! Ah, Harold ! Harold !” 

For at that moment they stumbled and nearly fell 
over the prostrate form of a man who lay, pinned to the 
earth, by one of the great trunks of the sycamore tree, 
which had fallen all across him. The pick-axe he had 
been using was still in his grasp, and the spade had 
been flung to a little distance. 

The face was partly uncovered, and the wild, wide- 
open, glassy eyes stared up at Dolores as she bent down 
over him. 


330 


THE SPANISH TEEASUKE. 


The same thought had come both to Dolores and 
Moray, and she answered his now, as if he had spoken 
it aloud : 

Yes,” she said, “ it is he ! The man who called 
himself Clarence Stanley. In some way he must have 
found the clew to the Mendoza treasure, and he was 
digging for it when the earthquake overtook him. 
Wretched man ! He has paid the penalty — he is quite 
dead — and, oh, Harold, is it not like Fate itself, or the 
visible hand of Heaven ? How horrible ! How awful !” 

She covered her face with her hands and turned 
away shaken and shuddering. 

And, truly, something very strange and awful had 
occurred. 

The sycamore, in falling, had flung that part of the 
trunk on which was carved the outline of the Indian 
woman’s figure in such a way, that it fell with all its 
force against the head of her cruel and treacherous 
-descendant ; and, with that tremendous blow, the point 
of the arrow-head had been driven into the center of 
the black, heart-shaped mole through the temple, and 
-crashing into the cunning, strong, wicked brain beneath, 
as the nail of Jael had smitten Sisera. 

“ He is past all help or further punishment,” said 
Moray, drawing Dolores gently away from the fatal 
spot. “ Let me take you home, dearest ; we will send 
men here at once to do all that is left to do, now. But 
the woman ! It must have been his wife that was 
with him ; it was certainly a woman’s voice that gave 
that terrible cry !” 

“ Nothing will hurt Olive Gaye !” said Dolores, bit- 
terly. “ Such people are like cats ; they always alight 
on their feet. But we will look about for her, Harold, 
since she is a woman.” 

“ I will take you hom$ first, Dolores,” 


A GHO'STLY AVENGER. 


331 


But long before they reached the house, they were met 
by Mr. and Mrs. Travers and a troop of their work- 
people, who were out in search of them ; and the brief 
excitement following the earthquake having already 
subsided, the men were more than willing for a new 
and more legitimate excitement in extricating the body 
of the dead man from the fallen tree, which had served 
as an avenging thunderbolt to the spirit of the long- 
forgotten Indian princess. 

The brilliant light of a new morning was shining on 
the wreck of the sycamore trees before the dibris of the 
earthquake and the body of the dead had been taken 
away, and no trace had been found of the dead man’s 
wife, although diligent search had been made in every 
direction ; and Mrs. Travers, with Dolores, having been 
assured that all signs of the recent tragedy had been 
removed, stood beside the spot where the false Clar- 
ence Stanley and still more false Carlos Mendoza had 
met his death. 

What an exquisite morning !” said Dolores. “ It is 
difficult to realize that it has risen over such a night of 
horror. The beautiful sky smiles as if it looked on a 
new world — just as it smiled on that great man, four 
hundred years ago, who gave a new world to mankind.” 

“Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Travers, standing by the edge 
of the great trench that had been opened, first by the 
pick and spade, and afterward torn asunder by the 
earthquake ; “ and here at last lies the great Mendoza 
treasure, uncovered in all its glory, and smiling back 
with a thousand brilliant, glittering eyes ! Look ! 
Look ! Everybody come here ! The lid has been 
shaken from the box, and just see the river of precious 
stones that flash back the light from every corner !” 

“Yes,” said Dolores, gravely; “that must be the 
treasure. I had forgotten it.” 


332 


THE SPANISH TREASURE. 


Mr. Travers, who had come quickly in answer to his 
wife’s shrill cries, now stooped and picked up some 
pieces of dull, yellowish stone and earth, with here and 
there bright specks that flashed like yellow light. 

“ Yes,” he said, musingly, “ the Mendoza treasure, 
indeed. This opens a vein that will lead to the discov- 
ery of the great lost mine of the Santiago Canyon. A 
myth it has been thought by mining-men, but a fact, as 
this will prove ; and this bit of land, for several acres 
round about, belongs to the Sefiorita Mendoza, the last 
and only remaining portion of all that once belonged to 
her father. 

Mrs. Travers caught Dolores in a close embrace and 
hugged her till she begged for mercy. 

“ Oh, you darling girl ! You great bonanza ! You 
will have jewels outrivaling the revenue of an emperor !” 

“ Give me the hearts of those I love !” exclaimed 
Dolores, smiling through happy tears. “ They are the 
jewels that gold can never buy, and their luster is 
brightest in clouds and darkness.” 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

ORANGE-BLOSSOMS. 

The beauty of a bride is proverbial, but even among 
brides it is rare to see such beauty as that of Dolores on 
her wedding-day. 

Lord Moray had entreated for an early date for the 
marriage ; for he desired to return at once to England, 
that he might be present, with the only comfort of love 


ORANGE-BLOSSOMS. 


333 


and sympathy, when his sister learned of her lover’s 
death ; and Dolores could find no word of refusal. 

She did not wish, indeed, to find any ; their love was 
perfect; a flower of Paradise which could neither 
wither nor improve. There was no cause for delaying 
the marriage, and it was Mrs. Travers who asked for a 
reasonable time to elapse. 

A bride could not be married without a trousseau^ she 
declared, and such a bride } Dolores should have a 
trousseau worthy of her beauty and of the Mendoza 
treasure. And such a trousseau^ it was easy to see, 
could not be procured in a day. 

And Mrs. Travers had her way, as her husband 
remarked she generally did, since she took it if it 
wasn’t given to her. 

But Dolores found happiness even in this delay ; for 
Polly Hamilton had speedily followed her letter, as she 
had promised to do ; and, as Mrs. Travers declared, any 
lover less perfect than Lord Harold would have been 
jealous, even though his rival was only a girl. For her- 
self, she announced that she was furiously jealous, or 
should have been if she hadn’t almost fallen in love 
with Polly Hamilton also. For Polly was once more 
the gay, sweet, ardent, hopeful girl she had been of 
old ; perhaps more gentle, more subdued than formerly, 
but with the repose of a fine nature that has learned its 
own strength through suffering, and with the humility 
of gratitude for a most fortunate escape from great 
danger and sorrow. 

The days and weeks passed as in a delightful dream ; 
a happiness so deep and tranquil, that even its excess 
did not alarm. 

“ The chief bridemaid is almost as lovely as the bride,” 
said Mr. Travers, on the wedding-day. 

Polly and Dolores, a little apart from all others, not 


334 


THE SPANISH TREASTTRE. 


admitting even the bridegroom at this farewell com- 
munion, were clinging to each other in the embrace of 
parting love ; each feeling this to be the only painful 
moment they had known since their reunion. 

“ You must stop admiring Polly Hamilton,” Mrs. 
Travers said, laughing, “ or I shall be jealous. I never 
knew you so enthusiastic about any girl since — since — ” 

“ Since I courted you, my dear,” returned her hus- 
band. “Yes, Nell, I think her delightful; much too 
good and lovely to be wearing the willow for that atro- 
cious ruffian who jilted her and met with such a fitting 
end to all his treacherous villainy.” 

“ Oh, she isn’t !” exclaimed his wife. “ Don’t suppose 
it. Polly Hamilton is heart-whole, though she may have 
been shaken a little, but not enough to harm her. She 
is just the kind of woman to profit by an experience 
such as she has had, and few girls fall in love with the 
right man the first time. All women are not so fortu- 
nate, sir, 2i^your wife has been.” 

And Mrs. Travers would have been confirmed in her 
opinion could she have heard the words Polly was then 
saying to Dolores. 

“ You are the angel of my life, Rita,” said Polly, “ and 
never more so than when you were the means of saving 
me from a fate worse than death had I learned too late 
the awful truth about that man — ” 

“ Let us not speak of him, dear,” said Dolores. “ Let 
his memory die, as an ugly dream scared away by the 
joy of waking.” 

* « « « « % « 

“And she will be the Countess of Windermere !” said 
Mrs. Hamilton to her husband. “Well, since it was 
not to be Polly, I don’t know but it is next best to have 


ORANGE-BLOSSOMS. 


335 


the title borne by Dolores. She will grace it and honor 
it.” 

“ She will grace and honor anything,” said Mr. Hamil- 
ton. “ But you must not be too sure that she will ever 
wear the Windermere coronet.” 

“ What do 3 ^ou mean exclaimed his wife. 

“ Just this, my dear : My latest letters from England 
mention, incidentally, that the old earl is about to 
marry again. There will soon be a new Countess of 
Windermere ; and, for a time, at least, Dolores may be 
barred out.” 

“ The old earl — he must be in his dotage !” said Mrs. 
Hamilton. 

“ Very likely,” was the amused reply ; but that 
makes things only more easy for Olive Gaye.” 

“ Olive Gaye ! That girl ! After all — oh, surely 
Heaven cannot be so unjust !” 

“Heaven has little to do with such people,” returned 
her husband, grimly. “ But Fate or the Devil or some- 
thing of that sort is very favorable to the Becky Sharps 
of this world.” 

“ 0-h !” exclaimed Mrs. Hamilton, with a long-drawn 
sigh of indignation too deep for words. “ Well, at least 
she will prove the worst punishment the old man can 
ever meet with for his folly.” 

“ Yes, that is where the justice of Heaven comes in. 
But look, dear ; there is the last glimpse of the carriage 
that is bearing Dolores and her husband away toward 
their new home.” 

“ I see it. How bright the sun is shining about them, 
and how clear the sky ! God bless her ! God bless 
them both ! May all their skies be bright in the days 
to come !” 


THE END. 


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